Back into the garden to learn the fate of my spinach.
Dead.
All of it.
Killed and destroyed by the ravages of the yard war between the gopher and the cats.
The gopher?
Dead.
All of it.
Destoryed by the claws of the cats, I suppose.
I don't really know.
I wasn't here.
And the cats?
Dead.
I hope.
Wouldn't that be a great way to end this little saga? Everyone dead and me left standing in the wasteland of it all.
It's the stuff novels are made of.
Novels that are made into movies.
As my aunt said to me the other day, "Hi, my name is Allie and I like to be dramatic."
It follows me everywhere.
Lucky me, no evidence to prove that the cats killed the gophers...therefore I don't need to thank them.
Drama, drama, drama. Real and imagined.
Definitely imagined.
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