Surmise The black, feral cat -- large, muscular --- walks across my porch; I rise slowly as it steps down, turns to the left and I slide quietly open the glass door with the cat out of sight. I growl like a bear. It runs not looking back until twenty yards away it stops, turns its head, surveys me in the doorway, walks away without looking back. Like all creatures great and small, I envy their surmising skill of danger -- seeing, turning away, never looking back. — Byron Hoot
![night animal pet eyes](https://i0.wp.com/hootnhowlpoetry.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/10/night-animal-pet-eyes.jpg?fit=866%2C1300&ssl=1)