A Case of Recovered Memory: in which Buster finds the Wilsons of Autumn as a result of melted snow.

Yes, the temperature finally reached a tropical 8 degrees Celsius the other day. The sun glared down upon the firmament, creating a scorching desert. The accumulated snow of months proceeded to melt.

And what should appear? Mammoth bones? No-- Wilsons!



It was a moment of ineffable joy for Buster.

I watched him with detached curiosity. His tiny brain had become overwhelmed with portents of spring--with dreams of emerging greenery and the certain knowledge that, in the not-too-distant future, he could spend every minute of every waking hour chasing and mouthing his beloved Wilsons!

This was a true triumph of joy over reason! It was a lovely thing to behold.

Your faithful correspondent,

Bailey

P.S. For those who have expressed concern regarding the whereabouts of Persephone, she has surfaced. Her confessional may be found below !