The Invasion Year

Начало книги

“Nathan Bedford,” my “little general,” and his “bubba” Mosby’s groomer, fellow prankster, and “hot water bottle” on cool nights. Forrest was white-furred, with a grey tail, ears and nose, and the brightest, widest jade green eyes. He was an ambusher, a talker who’d hold long conversations with me, or any message left on the phone, and could purr louder than any other cat I can remember. He was only 9? when he left this life on July 2nd, 2010, and Mosby and I miss him very much, and wish he could have stayed with us many years more-if only to help Mosby open every under-counter cabinet door in the house, or lay side by side to “paddle” all the sliding closet doors open so they could get inside and prowl.

Forrest, I give you the Sunday wardroom toast,

“Absent Friends.”

Pateant montes silvacque lacusque

cunctaque claustra maris; spes et metus omnibus esto

arbiter. Ipse locos terrenaque summa movendo

Читать дальше →