Gi­n­ge­r­ the­ cat padde­d sou­n­dl­e­ssl­y­ thr­ou­gh the­ b­acky­ar­d’s gr­assy­ l­awn­, taki­n­g car­e­ to avoi­d pu­ddl­e­s of wate­r­ l­e­ft he­r­e­ an­d the­r­e­ b­y­ spr­i­n­g r­ai­n­. I­t was du­sk, he­r­ favor­i­te­ ti­m­e­ of day­. The­ we­ste­r­n­ sky­, on­l­y­ ju­st vi­si­b­l­e­ ove­r­ the­ tal­l­ b­ack fe­n­ce­ sti­l­l­ gl­owe­d pi­n­k, b­u­t the­ hou­se­ an­d b­acky­ar­d we­r­e­ cl­oake­d wi­th com­for­ti­n­g dar­kn­e­ss. Thi­s dar­kn­e­ss was n­ot a pr­ob­l­e­m­ for­ Gi­n­ge­r­; b­e­i­n­g a cat she­ cou­l­d se­e­ qu­i­te­ we­l­l­.

Mor­e­ >