Little Creatures

I admit that I do spend a lot of time in the garden. I love the smell of catnip and spearment and all the mints that grow so profusely there. I love to roll around in their fragrant leaves. I think I smell quite nice when I do that, not at all like a tom cat. Yesterday morning, I slipped out of the house when the kitchen door was opened and headed right for that lovely patch of lemon balm and spearment. I threw myself onto the aromatic leaves and began to roll on my back, twisting to the left and then to the right. Ahhh! What pleasure! What delight! And then to my dismay, I heard the voice, a thin, bell like sound which strained by ears. I stopped rolling in the mint and sat up, looking about me for the owner of the voice which had accosted my ears. "Hi, kitty. Could you take my picture?"

"Who is speaking to me?" I demanded in my most ferocious meow. "I don't see anyone! Where are you, whatever you are?"

"Look under the leaves of the rose bush," replied the little voice. I did as I had been asked and began to scan the undersides of the leaves on the yellow rose bush. All I found was a litttle hairy worm chewing away on the glossy, green foliage. Disgusted, I turned away muttering to myself. "Hey kitty! Would you take my picture? Please take my picture!"

"Now why would I want to take a picture of a worm?" I growled. You're not very attractive!"

"I am not a worm, you dump cat! I am a caterpillar. After I have finished eating a lot of leaves and grow big and strong, I will spin a cocoon, take a long nap and turn into a beautiful butterfly. I will be admired by everyone in the neighborhood! And because you are so nasty to me, I will not speak to you ever again!" The worm turned away from me and started chewing on another leaf.

"Okay, I'll take your picture. What's your name? I like to know the name of the creatures I photograph," I purred, feeling a little guilty at my rudeness. "Do you need to brush your hair or anything? Maybe a little hair spray to add shine or control?"

The creature wagged its head back and forth. "I like the natural look. My name is Franklin, by the way, after my mother's brother who got eaten up by a bird. Can we start now?"

So I returned to the house and came back with the camera. A half an hour later, I finished Franklin's photo session. The photographs aren't too bad, if you like hairy worms.

The End of This Story
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