Randall called to them a time or two after that, then forgot them. The wild tabby cats, who lived in the otherwise empty barn, subsisting on field mice and table scraps, grew tired of the meager handouts that came at irregular intervals and went elsewhere. Then the brisk winds of autumn confined him to the back porch and, finally, to the sofa in the square of parlor in front of the old black-and-white television.
In a span of months he narrowed his gyre from the woods and pastures of his hunting days to the yard and garden patch surrounding the small white-frame house. As it was he turned loose of life by inches. Curiosity is natural to the soul of man.-first words of The Adventures of Colonel Daniel Boone,ĭying cost nothing and could be done alone otherwise, Randall Stargill might have lived forever.
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