More on the Fisher Cat . . .

Noticing signs in Newton Corner announcing that kittens were missing, signs accusing coyotes of the dastardly deed, Marash Girl was chagrined; the coyotes that she knew would have nothing to do with cats or kittens.  But then again, this was Newton Corner. . .

The advent of spring brought the need for planting perennials, and as Marash Girl lives in the Garden City, she simply visited a neighbor who was willing to share her overgrown garden, to be specific, her large masses of Iris, Iris of every color . . . Marash Girl had never seen such a variety of Iris (or do we say Irises?)  So off she went on Memorial Day to the far corners of Newton Corner, and there she met the Queen of Iris who was not only queenly in her manner but was queenly in her generosity as well.  As Marash Girl chatted with the Iris Queen, she learned that a fisher cat had been roaming among the Iris in that far flung corner of Newton, and  that her neighbor had actually taken a picture of it.  Imagine!  A fisher cat!  Marash Girl and Marash Boy had heard tell of such a cat, but certainly had never heard one screeching, much less appearing in broad dusk light. . . But then so much can be left to the imagination as the dusk settles and the wind ruffles the leaves of a garden full of mature perennials.  

Marash Girl was pleased with the Iris shared by the Iris Queen, and carried home several buckets full of Iris (roots and all), planning to plant them (or planting to plan them?) in the morrow.  She was so excited about the prospect that she decided to serve dinner on the front porch where she could gaze at her soon to be planted perennials, sleek leaved with buds, some of yellow, some of purple, some of mauve,  buds ready to burst into bloom.  

Chicken shish kebab and pilaf were on the docket for that night, with fresh veggies . . . and more!  As the sun set, and the gloom descended, Marash Girl heard a bird calling.  Strange, she said to Marash Boy.  What bird would start calling after dark?  But then, she had gone through that already (see her blog of bird calls in the night).  .  .

And soon after the bird stopped calling, a dark form came into view from along side the house opposite, crossing the little dead end street, heading for the circle . . . a dark form with a long flat tail somewhat like a beaver's and a head like a cat's . . . Quick -- put the light on!  We didn't want this never seen before animal on our porch!  What was it?  It silently glided along the southern side of our house and was soon out of sight, following the path of the fox, the coyote, and the wild turkey that Marash Girl had seen pass in the past.

Do you think that was a fisher cat? Marash Girl asked Marash Boy. . . Let me go inside and check on the internet . . . and this is what she saw . . .on the internet AND on her very street.  Not a very pleasant sight, and taken to screaming screams that once heard, would never be forgotten (although the fisher cat was silent on the evening of Memorial Day).