In The Spring

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Every Spring, for the past ten years my cat, Wolfgang, would go outside during the late hours of the night and sit on the porch and wait.

Sometime during the evening his friend, a huge racoon,  would cross the street and run up the hill to our front porch

and they would sit out there together and after awhile they would eat.

Wolfie died in October and last night his friend came back.

And in a a way I guess Wolfie did too.

amm

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