The Cat

The Cat

Our cat is missing and the cabin feels empty.

He tends to gravitate toward the brook when he's out and about on his own. The brook meanders through a meadow near the woods.

Yes, there he is, crouched at the edge, unmoving, staring at the slow trickle of water.

As I bend over to pick him up, he suddenly morphs into a girl. A tiny human, no taller than the cat I had thought was there.

My brain shuts down. Muscles lock. I lose balance and tilt backward.

Suddenly, I'm sitting in the brook and damming the flow.

At the edge of potential rational thought, I observe the girl growing to full size. She says, "I am Arabelle." Then points in the general direction of the woods. "There's your cat."

I hear an impatient "Me-ow!", the kind that clearly states, "Where have you been!" I slowly stand up to look, pants dripping water. Yes, he's returning from the woods.

When I swing back, Arabelle is gone.

I must have imagined the whole thing.

But how do I explain away my water-soaked pants?