Oh, Deer

I recorded a Field Note that was aired on Montana Public Radio. Here’s the link: Oh, Deer


Bub’s not really his name. My daughter named him Tristan when she adopted the tiny kitten left in a cardboard box outside of a veterinarian office. He lived with Jen in her Nashville apartment for a year but came with her when she moved back home. It was a difficult adjustment for all of us. We had an older cat, Daisy, and a huge dog, Prince, who reigned in our home. Tristan stuck close to Jen until a year later when she moved across country. That’s when he homed in on me. He had to keep his distance, though, sleeping at the foot of my bed, far from Daisy’s place on my pillow. That is, when Prince would allow him to pass through my bedroom door. Tristan was low man on the totem pole. And how did he get the name Bub? Jen referred to him as Bub when...