I left the gate open at some point late last year and my WIP bolted, and it’s been living feral in the woods around our house for the last few months, completely refusing to be baited or bribed any closer than the fenceline.

That said, after weeks of worry, I am pleased to report that yesterday I caught it sitting on the porch, sipping the tea and snuffling at the slice of banana bread I left out for it on a chipped plate.

It lingered for a bit—long enough for me to chitchat with it a little through the window, building a small bridge of words between us—before it spooked and sprinted off again.

I heard it singing in the woods last night, an encouraging sign, despite it all.

I shall lay bait again today, and pray.

🐾