I watched from my seat, observing my cat and her stealthy movements. The moth switched directions again and tried to escape, but again the cat thwarte... it, this time by smacking her paw down on the place where the moth was standing. I held my breath as the cat sat still, perhaps feeling the struggles of the moth underneath her tiny paw. My cat was a huntress. This was her place in the food chain, above the moths, but perhaps below the chickens. My cat could never catch a chicken and I have told. "But," he continued, "it's okay to need help and accept help every once in a while, too. It doesn't mean you're weak." It's just hard for me, sometimes," Trisha began to admit. She pulled her hand out of Mark's and began to turn away."Look, let's get you in the house and get that foot elevated with some ice on it. I know the boys are with their dad this weekend, so you'll need someone to help out, at least for tonight. After you're settled, I'll order dinner; Chinese okay with you? And we can. More

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