At night, I gaze out on the patio occasionally to enjoy the twinkly lights amid the darkness. Night Vision Maple, however, is on guard for the slightest movement that signals trouble, feigning attack mode. Before her, I had no idea this small city was crawling with night creatures that no doubt fortify their hunting with meals at my container garden. Invaders. Enemies. Nature.
Tonight Maple perks up and slinks over to the door, staying low to the ground, so I perk up too and we watch a possum wiggle under the gate. Another night I see a white stripe glide by and I try to distract Maple so that we do not get sprayed through the screen door and spend the night bathing in tomato juice.
Lately, a black and white cat with an alert face hangs around trying to court Maple or instigate a fur-flying cat fight. I hiss at her on behalf of Maple who just stares dumbly back.