Weird…I just wrote to the In Charge of Everything Lady at my Bengal Rescue Group, and said if ever she needed a home for an F2 or F3, I would love a chance to experience one of these kitties…I spent a lot of last night researching F2 and F3’s thinking about them

(Most pet Bengals are F4, four generations, at least, from the Asian Leopard Cat, a seriously wild animal. F3, three away, and F2 two away, meaning Grandma was wild. F1 means Mommy or Daddy was a Leopard.)

She wrote back to me in five minutes saying she had been on the phone with a women for two days who had an F1. It seems the Breeder did not socialize him, and dumped him at a vet. The vet gave the cat to the women, keeping mum about the whole F1 thing, she thought she was getting a regular Bengal.

Think about a Bengal three times wilder than mine. This would be one extreme Kitty!

Of course I offered to take him, if that would help.

THAT would be something to blog about….I have to say, I would love the challenge, and am kind of hoping that they take me up on it.

And back to art….

I got this this morning in my Inbox from Jane Yolen, saying that it was for our Night Garden search. (she doesn’t waste any time!) So we have page one, and the bar has been set!

It’s truly beautiful and I love it. In fact, I am turning it into the words for my song, that I am doing for my part….

In the Night Garden

Night lilies bloom,
Leaves red as blood.
Frogs without legs
Are astir in the mud.
Foxes with eyes that are
White as blind moons.
Katy-don’ts creaking out
Raw fiddle tunes.
Possums play dead
Till they really do rot.
And I am out searching
For what I know not.;
For what I know not,
And for what I most fear,
Afraid what’s behind me,
Afraid what is near.

By Jane Yolen

And, mostly to prevent you all from shaking your fingers at me tomorrow, after you told me to post the Garden piece I wrote a while back, here you go. (Tho I have to say, posting ones first bit of non-humour writing in public for the first time directly after a poem by Jane Yolen, is rather more of a test of bravery than I was looking for)

Haunted Garden

I can never find your hidden messages, you hide them so well. I know, you told me that I couldn’t find them because I was too afraid of breaking things. What things? Precious things? Fragile things? Hearts? Bah, we eat them for breakfast some evenings.

Lets play hide and seek tonight, we will persuade the bats to act as messengers, and carry clues from me to you and you to I. The garden gnomes will not grumble if we stay out of the flower beds, besides where would the smallest of the neighbors dine if we were romping thru nightshade, the moon-flowers and the ghost roses.

(not mind you that the ghosts would be caught alive stopping to smell the roses, as if !)

I’ll dress like Alice in Wonderland gone bad and you can wear a shift of spiderwebs and shimmer like you do in the bright moonlight. Stay by the house and count as high as you can, which my dear, I do know is more than FIVE , none of that again. I will go and hide, and a bat shall fly back to you with a note saying I lie in the place where the dead people live. I’ll give you a spell and be home before ye…..

One is you
and the second is I
I shall run and
you shall fly

Come and find me,
if you can ,
alley alley in free,
with three dead men

Four little nightbirds
sitting in a tree and
five little spiders
all looking for me

Six dark vampires
and one make seven,
No good children will
go to heaven…….

A chest of gold,
pieces of eight,
will buy you time
it’s getting late

I’ll run home and
you’ll be mine
that cat’s done,
life number nine

as the churchbell tolls
number ten,

I’ll wait for you, and we’ll play again……

Love and Poems, Lorraine