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.

3 comments:

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.