I stride purposefully down the path my paws have beaten out over the many years.

I know I am barely visible, hidden by the tall,

dry grass and tumble-weeds nearly my color.

I make no noise, my feet tread silently as I whisk along.

The ground is frosty,

and my breath makes tiny clouds in the air above me.

I stop and watch as a pair of blackbirds take off, perhaps

alarmed by my sudden presence.

The mountains are cold, and still,

Silhouetted by the not-yet risen sun.

The world is slowly beginning to wake up, the perfect time for me to hunt. 

I resume my travels once again,

until I come to a small clearing in the grass,

covered with mounds of dirt, and holes.

Within these holes awaits my breakfast.

I tread carefully closer,

and then lie down, concealed in the grasses.

I wait patiently, watching the sky turn from navy blue,

with muted stars, to a brilliant pink.

Suddenly I hear a noise coming from one of the holes,

and I crouch,

cat-like,

in readiness to attack.

I watch as slowly,

an ear,

a face,

and then the body,

of a gopher emerges from the hole.

I wait longer, even though my body screams at me to pounce now,

and watch with agonizing patience,

as the rodent ventures away from his safety hole.

I gather myself into a coiled ball of energy,

and launch myself into the air,

pouncing on the un-aware gopher.

He makes no noise,

and goes limp instantly,

neck broken.

Satisfied, I pick him up in my mouth, and lope off down my trail.

My tail wags happily,

and it seems as though I run without touching the ground,

at least, it seems to my un-noticed spectator, who sits above me,

watching silently from the deck of her house.