Monday, 25 July 2011

stone #25

With a strange tenderness the cat presents a vole to me.  The vole lies still, completely inert.  The cat starts rumbling and mewing, rolling, bathing in his joy.  The vole suddenly springs up, heading for a dark space by the radiator.  The cat loves this game, the chasing, the catching, the teasing; but I do not.

I separate the vole and cat. 

The vole buzzes around at high speed, his tiny feet a blur.  Eventually I trap him in a container, freeing him outside.  He pauses, whiskers spinning, not yet ready for his freedom, not understanding how it has ended this way.


Sandra Davies said...

There is something epic in your telling of this tale.

Mark Sargeant said...

Thank you, I think it was traumatic for everyone involved (excepting the cat)!

Linda H. said...

Poor little vole.