Last week, lost from nowhere, she dot-dashes through my back yard, runs to me, body glad, chin lifted, mouth a pink triangle. House-kitten, for sure. Yesterday, outside in the quiet air, first time since she came, she is a small fur question, wide-eyed, silent, in my hand. Set down in calm green space, she melts away, tremulous shadow behind a small fern. Squirrels, frozen head down on tree trunks, come to their senses with ferocious chatter. Jays, wings spread, sway with excitement, scream and echo, leaping from branch to branch. Fear curls the air. Kingdoms totter. The news is out. Today, inside, she meets me at the back door with calm intent. Oh Cat Named Certainty, you have found yourself. The door opens to the imperious flick of your tail.