Here be dragons

She finished Her Dragon book, which was a great relief to all of us. Seemed She was taking on the fire-breathing characteristics of Her subject matter the closer She got to the last brush stroke. We expected Her to sit down and curl up by the warm fire, but no, She looked around the house in horror. It seems the dragons had been getting out of Her head and making an terrible mess in the house.
On Saturday evening She fed us as we curled and swayed around Her legs, but there were only 5. No sign of Elmo. When the weather turned dark and nasty and still he had not come home She began to worry. Just a little. Maurice and Kiffer and Martha and I collected on the sofa of ginger, Max curled on a cushion, tight as a ball, in the hall. Outside the storm cat raged throwing spears of rain at the house and the wind was sharp cold. Even in the darkest time of night he did not come back and She prowled around the house in the early hours counting cats.
At breakfast still no sign and as the weather began to clear She went outside, calling, calling, but no Elmo.
By early evening imagination of horrors began to grow and to chase away the fear She walked with dogs on the beach where the wind's paw through snakes of sand low across the ground. As She walked back into the house there was an orange cat with thick stripes and a smiling face.
"I'm hungry." said Elmo.
And She scooped him up in a circle of arms and cuddled him close. "Where have you been?" She asked.
But Elmo just smiled a secret smile.
"I missed you too," he said " a little."
The house still looks as if dragons live in it.