I can't believe it--it's February and SHE'S BACK--Hazel. Gizmo said it would be an early spring, and my furry friend is at the corn pile. Look at those cheeks!---m-m-m-m. I tried to catch up on the underground news with her but I couldn't understand a word she said. I tried to tell her that a gentleman hawk has been walking among the shrubs looking for a fat dinner guest. Last night we all suffered the delicate odor of Miss Prunella, passing by looking for a "friendly companion." She looked fabulous in her black and white classic coat so fresh and soft. As she strutted by the old mill the man in the long blue apron abruptly shut the window. Oh dear! It is spring, so early!
Until next time . . .