Not just any cat.

Leonardo DiCATrio

Joe, our landscaper, stopped me while I was heading up the blackberry path for lunch, and offered us a cat.  We needed a new rat catcher for the barn, so I encouraged him to run it by my husband.

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Transitions.

As the sun snuck below the sky on a crisp Monday evening, I arrived early to my dance studio on High Street and received horrible news – the studio was closing.  I sat right down and stuck my nose in a book to avoid openly crying.

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