it’s bittersweet he, or she, we saw the side of the road home, something wasn’t right, we pulled over, threw a hat over her, no way telling where she came from, we had a bird cage as it happened, bought seed, each day we let her on the lawn to pick at the grass and wander, and her brethren came to the local gum, as though they knew and our cats didn’t seem to mind, preferred the tinned tuna, or else some expression of cat freedom like mice, baby snakes, tossing them round like ribbons, the menagerie like diet books…