There they are. Five of them. And one must go. But how to choose? “Wide shoulders narrowing to a point”? “Ginormous”? “Elongated”? Or...

Greetings.   Like humans who perform multiple jobs, I, too, struggle to juggle my varied responsibilities. As a cat of class and...

Wilma demonstrates how pigs love to eat. Wilma: Pigs are silly, pigs are hungry. Pigs love to eat, pigs love to scratch. Pigs know how to...

“…we cannot fight old power in old power terms only. The only way we can do it is by creating another whole structure that touches every...

Greetings.   It is with regret that I write to inform you of unrest at the Patch. As I gain fluency in the intricacies of chicken...

Mona practicing the "Great Pig Way." Wilma: When pigs began helping humans, humans were grateful. People saw that pigs were smart and...

A neighbor moose. The catastrophes add up: calamitous weather whips up hurricanes and heats the oceans; basic rights and the sense of...

Henry, moving at his typical pace. Greetings.   I write in haste. A deputized cadre of chickens has initiated contact with me, asking...

Mona and Wilma eating hay together. Wilma: The Great Past Pigs decreed that pigs should help humans by giving them good food. Now there...

To dwell is to leave a trace. Jorie Graham

Henry, surveying his domain. Greetings.   Pudge asked me to relay the following directly to you as Feeder:   “Heya. Henry does not want...

Wilma's piglets in a pile. Wilma: Five pigs are at the Patch, except when there are lots of piglets running ‘round. The Feeders at the...

Henry, feeling a bit perturbed. Greetings.   As I feared, Pudge’s situation has not been satisfactorily remedied. He struggles to make...

Warm eggs, fresh from the nest. I love discovering a just-laid egg, still dewy and warm from the hen’s body. My egg collecting rarely...

Mona on the left (black and white), Wilma on the right (ginger). Wilma: I am Wilma, that is Mona. I am loud, Mona is quiet. I am small,...

"Queer little red bugs came out and moved in slow squadrons around me. Their backs were polished vermilion, with black spots. I kept as...

Henry the Cat Greetings.   Henry, here.   This letter may come as a surprise as I felt it inopportune to contact you previously. I am a...

Young Mona (left) and Young Wilma (right). Wilma: I am a pig, a round and hairy ginger pig. They call us KuneKunes, those Feeders who...

“…something can be made sacred by the attention we grant it.” Lyanda Lynn Haupt, Rooted  A Rose Bush by the entrance to my greenhouse in...

As a child, I found the fear of death mystifying. Raised in a culty, right-wing Christian family, my parents trotted out the message of...