"The Hunter" - by John Lafrance

As the orange globe sets low in the sky, in the shadows there’s a presence of something awaiting for dusk to fall fully. I’m pound for pound the most ferocious, quickest and deadliest entity alive. I’m also so stealth, so dark and so trim that you would not want to come into my path because you would be nothing but prey.

As darkness falls, eyes are adjusting to my night vision. Now be still as a rock, as still as can be. Not even a breeze, just perfect. Patience, wait and be ready for something to stir, a leaf, a shadow, a twig to break, anything at all. I believe, I sense and I smell.

A noise breaks through the night. A tin can being tapped, as a voice calls out, “Pokey, come, din din.” Yes, I believe it’s Fancy Feast Tuna Surprise. She hurries to a knowing warmth as the door awaits her entry.

Finishing the last of supper she quickly moves to her favourite spot and lays down purring. Back into her dreams she becomes the hunter of the night. Within moments her paws start twitching.