Every day of spring was a day of changing development and disorder met with directed management efforts. The life of the forest’s top predator was filled with one crisis after another…..
Observation. Keen patient feline observation. Not notice, interest or simply seeing. Harvey stared, his ears moving undetectably to take in all sound, the nose of his blackened gray muzzle very faintly sniffing the gentle breeze flowing down the hill not far from Bad Taffy’s residence…..
There was no special talent necessary for inhabiting the tops of trees. Harvey relaxed to better reflect upon the lower forest below him, as the wind moved the branches supporting his body slowly back and forth with boring regularity. Squirrels from his former territory had taught Harvey well…….
Harvey rushed toward the small stand of pines set about twenty body-lengths back from the road. Right Claw, Left Eye and Nothing Crow sat on the black wire set up half way between the snow-bermed edge of the road and the nearest tree. ..
Sleep didn’t come that night for Harvey. His place, usually at the foot of his principal human’s bed snuggled into one ankle, was foregone to allow for tactical positioning. The heating vent near the front dining room window was not only covered by a billowing silk drape held back by some wall mounted tie……..