To Travel 

Each time you come home is different.

All the way in Virginia the little kitty who was my friend died and was buried in the backyard.

The Grizz put her down here. He painted “Peanut” in black, but the weather erased her name away again and again. Thus it came to pass that he used his magnifying glass to burn the letters into wood so that even rain and wind could not forget.

That was the first story M.Sto told me when I got home.

Before Peanut, The Grizz did not want a cat (he hated cats), but two little girls holding kittens swayed him to say yes. We were to take care of her so that he did not have to be involved...

Peanut always did like him best.

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