Welp, I would not have chosen this ending to the story. It is a sad conclusion—distressing, sad and gory. The hummingbird, suspended in its helicopter flight, was brought down from the air with one swift lethal bite. It was my adorable kitten who stopped its blur of wings. Tired of scratching posts and batting balls and chasing strings, she chose a task more difficult—a target ever-moving, an irresistible challenge but one hardly behooving a tiny kitten noted for its playfulness and cuteness. I fear I underestimated her extreme astuteness. Now she rests in sunlight. Her quarry, limp and torn, here upon my doormat, I survey, forlorn over loss of this small creature—its sheer poetry of motion— as well as this reminder that in garden, air or ocean, one thing feeds upon another in a constant mortal chain incredible in beauty, indivisible from pain, even in a garden where I sought for peace to reign.
Prompt words for the day are flight, forlorn, adorable and welp.
1. This is one sketch for the potential main character in my book. 2. Here is another rough sketch.
4. And a fourth. Which do you prefer, if any? This is for a dog for a little boy.
Matt’s Daily Inkling prompt today is: How do you know when the time is right to add a new pet to the family? What’s the most interesting story in your life of adding a pet?
Are you picking up my vibes, Matt???? Can you believe that I am at this very moment trying to choose the prototypes for the three puppies in my new story book entitled “I Really Want a Puppy!”
I’d appreciate everyone voting on whether they find any of these preliminary rough sketches appealing for a story book for 3 to 8 year olds. I need three puppies, members of the same litter, and I’m trying to choose which one the little boy would like. If you would just vote yes or no on # 1, 2, 3 and 4 and indicate which you think would be most appealing for a little boy. The style of #1 is very different. After seeing it, I requested more cartoonish sketches. This is a story book for children age 3 to 8. Remember, these are preliminary sketches. If you like more than one, vote for up to three, but indicate which you think a little boy would like the most. If you don’t like any of them, let me know and it is back to the drawing board.
I measure her cat food with care from the vat, but she has such an aptitude, my little cat for flushing out lizards and others like that. With delicate paw thrusts, she gives them a bat ’til they barely know where it is that they’re at, then unleashes her claws for a more severe pat.
Be it lizard or bird or scorpion or rat, she defeats it as though it were merely a gnat and lays it out nicely on my front door mat: one scorpion sting less or a feather for my hat, then returns to the stool where she formerly sat, licking her chops, and that’s why she’s so fat!!!
I’d like to know on just what basis we deserve our fine oasis? In other places, other climes, people our age have harder times. They work ’til death or do not eat. They toil in poverty and heat. So though we may have aches and pain, I must our grumbling disdain. Yes, I ache and limp and groan, yet prefer these problems that are my own.
“I think we may be family,” was whispered in his ear, but he couldn’t see who said it, though he looked both far and near. Again that small voice spoke to him. “We share a family name, although as the biggest, you possess most of the fame.”
Thus did the massive elephant notice for the first time the tiniest of animals who’d finished its long climb from the dirt so far below up to his mighty ear. From foot to knee to shoulder, it had climbed in spite of fear
that one great flinch might cast it from the air down to the ground. Yet still it journeyed upwards, driven to expound on how great an irony, surely it must be, that this small “ant” and the eleph”ant” must be family!