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Today I took a stroll along the pond and imagined Misty was skipping along beside me, pushing my legs this way and that. “Stay away from the water, Gram,” she would say. “You’re too close to the water, Gram!” She would push me over ’til I nearly fell down. Anything to stay clear of the water.

Misty hates the water. A tiny drizzle sends her running for cover. Maybe that’s why she was so upset the day she knocked me off the feed box and ended up covered in paint.

I continued wandering along, picturing Misty standing in the corner of the shelter, shivering in misery that day. Poor Misty. Oh well, I guess she learned her lesson not to be so nosy. Though to be fair, I did do a silly thing: trying to stand up on that sloped box to paint the shelter while Misty and the others were nearby . . . good thing no one got hurt, and it was kind of funny actually.