Have you ever heard
a cat trying to dig its way out from underneath a pile of snow? It
is dark outside, the only light you see is the moonlight reflecting
off of a white blanket. A soft wind blows, but other than that, the
only thing you hear is a faint scratching sound.
You can almost
sense each frozen bit of ice being dragged out from the pile, one by
one. The trees hang overhead, barren, with long scrawny limbs that
reach out towards you, beckoning you to come closer. You know
somewhere in there, is where the sound is coming from.
It is so cold, it
has been for days. You begin to wonder how long the furry little
creature has been trapped out there. You know it has been almost
five days since the last big snowfall. A gust of wind crawls up your
back and down your collar, you shiver from the chill.
You wonder if you
should grab a shovel and walk towards the sound, but it seems to be
so deep in the woods that you fear you may never find her. Then you
start to wonder if it is just the trees, making noise, blowing against
the wind and scratching the icy surface with their claws.
You almost give up
and decide to go back inside, but then you see it. The tiny tip of a
small black paw, just barely peeking out through the snow. The snow
must be two feet deep out there. There is no way something could
have survived this long, and still be alive.
A low muffled moan
echoes from the pile, you take a slight step back, but nod your head
forward to try to see more clearly. A snowflake kisses your nose and
you look up at the sky, it is starting to snow again. As you look
back into the woods, you can now see an arm emerging from the pile.
That is not
possible, you think, but then you see an ear. The scratching becomes
louder and faster, and you can almost feel it against your skin,
ripping, tearing, desperately trying to release itself from its