Beneath the Bond: Unraveling Secrets in Andrew Miller’s My Guys
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I heard about a volunteer who quit because he couldn’t stand the continual snap-snap of the locks.
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After our tabby died, we adopted a Maine Coon cat from a pet shelter near Milbridge, Maine. He traveled with us from Florida to Maine every fall and spring. He’s more canine than feline. When I walk in the backyard, he chases after me and jumps to my waist. He follows me to the garden and helps check the milkweed for aphids, tie up the tomatoes, and adjust the irrigation system. He trails me to the mailbox.
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