Endless Lawn XXIV

Liverwurst (Livvy)

My yard is probably 90 feet long until it abruptly turns into thorny brush,
Its a short walk. Not even a walk, more of a bounce...then its over. But I've learned something recently that makes me emotional about the length of my yard.

Two or three weeks ago, a thunderstorm shook the whole neighborhood, and hail pounded my short, tiny yard. Out of this storm, a small kitten roughly seven weeks old appeared. Soggy,  scared, and completely unwilling to come close. She had a long drenched coat. White, grey, and pale orange.

Over the last couple of weeks, we have set out food: Liverworst, turkey, dry cat food, wet cat food, gravy to sweeten the deal. But every time I step onto the porch to approach the little stranger, she aggressively (albeit sweetly & comically) tears across the length of the lawn towards the brush. When she does this her eyes are full of panic and she has a look about her that reads "dear Lord, I'll never cross the grassy sea. If only I could go faster or shorten the lawn, I could escape my  doom. Keep pressing! The woods are still so far away." As I watch her head for the brambles, time slows and stretches. It takes a long time for her to escape such a small yard.

Some days have gone by and my girlfriend Kati has learned to meow like a kitten. It's a nice and weird thing. We crack the window and let Kati meow. It works. This little cat, as timid and leary as any cat  Ive seen, starts to approach the house. She eats her meal and Kati steps onto the porch. The kitten doesnt leave. Her trust is being earned, as shes older, wiser.

Every night now, we spend time on the porch, slowly getting to know the little cat. If we move too suddenly, she still takes off, but less fiercely. She no longer runs as if her life depends on it. In increments, her fear is subsiding and her body grows. Her endless lawn is shrinking.

D. Gravely, June 2023