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Quote by Anne Weaver

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Farm Fiasco

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Anne Weaver

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“From the beginning, Kendra had assumed that Catty was from some distant planet and that her extraordinary power was actually a form of teleportation used by her people. She had cautioned Catty not to tell anyone about her unusual skill. And Catty hadn't until she met Vanessa. She had known immediately that Vanessa was different, too, when she saw the silver moon amulet hanging around her neck. It was identical to the one Catty wore. Catty looked down at her amulet now and studied the face of the moon etched in the metal. She had been wearing the charm when Kendra found her. Now, sparkling in the fluorescent lights, it didn't look silver, but opalescent. She never took it off. Kendra turned and glanced at her, her eyes asking if she was okay. Catty tried to smile back, but her lips curled in a sad imitation of one. She wished she could find the courage to tell Kendra the truth. She hated keeping any secret from her. But the words never came. It was probably easier to believe in people from outer space than to accept what Catty really was, anyway. She sometimes thought Kendra would feel disappointed if she learned the truth. Kendra was always on the Internet trying to find out more about UFO sightings, Area 51, and Roswell. She seemed to enjoy the research. Catty studied Kendra now. Her cheeks had taken on an angry red blush and her fingers frantically worked at the beads hanging around her neck. Would Kendra even believe her if she did tell her the truth... that she was a goddess, a Daughter of the Moon, on Earth to protect people from the Followers of an ancient evil called the Atrox.”

“He's a sweet boy, and actually very trainable, even if he is something of a natural disaster for the moment. He's the star of his puppy kindergarten class, and can sit, lie down, roll over, and high-five. But stay and heel are hard for him because he has so much playful puppy energy. He's also gaining about ten pounds a day, and I think maybe I should have named him Clifford, because I fear he's going to be bigger than my house by the end of the month." "Well, at least Volnay likes him." "Whatever else is wrong with him, Wayne was right about one thing. Volnay seems to be happier and perkier. She's helping train him, which I think is the only reason he hasn't eaten the entire neighborhood by now, and she has absolutely adopted him. Which is hilarious, because she is so alpha, and he is already bigger than she is. When he's full size, it is going to be pretty funny!”

“When Diana finally felt ready, they went back to the shelter in Dennis and found a medium-sized mutt, a cheerful fellow with bushy brown fur and eyes like bright black buttons. He seemed to be the result of the union between a corgi and some kind of terrier, and, like Willa, he'd been abandoned, tied up underneath a bridge, starving, with his fur full of mats and burrs and every kind of bug. Diana and Michael brought him home. They brushed the remaining dirt and twigs and burrs out of his coat, and fed him kibble soaked in chicken broth, and tossed a tennis ball for him to fetch. Eventually, his favorite thing became sitting in the prow of a kayak with his back paws on the base of the boat and his front paws on its top, gazing out across the water as Diana paddled.”

“Donkey had spoken to and petted dozens of dogs she'd seen jogging along the road or poking around for food at the edge of the Waters; some of them were traveling dogs, males chasing the scent of females in heat, while others had mysterious agendas they did not share. The cats she met were usually more elusive, hiding out and hunting until Molly saw the signs of their presence and trapped them and took them home and saved their lives all by herself. But dogs were valued in a town that knew them as man's best friend, and usually the loose dogs who appeared on Lovers Road were reunited with their owners or else were taken to the makeshift shelter Smiley Smith's mother had set up, where they were quickly adopted.”

“I have always swung back and forth between alienation and relatedness. As a child, I would run away from the beatings, from the obscene words, and always knew that if I could run far enough, then any leaf, any insect, any bird, any breeze could bring me to my true home. I knew I did not belong among people. Whatever they hated about me was a human thing; the nonhuman world has always loved me. I can't remember when it was otherwise. But I have been emotionally crippled by this. There is nothing romantic about being young and angry, or even about turning that anger into art. I go through the motions of living in society, but never feel a part of it. When my family threw me away, every human on earth did likewise.”