{"id":1360,"date":"2014-09-10T05:42:52","date_gmt":"2014-09-10T05:42:52","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.perilousadventures.net\/blog\/?p=1360"},"modified":"2014-09-10T05:45:00","modified_gmt":"2014-09-10T05:45:00","slug":"ten-the-divide","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.perilousadventures.net\/blog\/?p=1360","title":{"rendered":"ten (the divide)"},"content":{"rendered":"<div id=\"attachment_1361\" style=\"width: 310px\" class=\"wp-caption alignright\"><a href=\"https:\/\/i1.wp.com\/www.perilousadventures.net\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/09\/maggietaylor.jpg\"><img aria-describedby=\"caption-attachment-1361\" loading=\"lazy\" class=\"size-medium wp-image-1361\" src=\"https:\/\/i1.wp.com\/www.perilousadventures.net\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/09\/maggietaylor.jpg?resize=300%2C300\" alt=\"Maggie Taylor. The divide. 2011.\" width=\"300\" height=\"300\" srcset=\"https:\/\/i1.wp.com\/www.perilousadventures.net\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/09\/maggietaylor.jpg?resize=300%2C300&amp;ssl=1 300w, https:\/\/i1.wp.com\/www.perilousadventures.net\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/09\/maggietaylor.jpg?resize=150%2C150&amp;ssl=1 150w, https:\/\/i1.wp.com\/www.perilousadventures.net\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/09\/maggietaylor.jpg?w=800&amp;ssl=1 800w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 300px) 100vw, 300px\" data-recalc-dims=\"1\" \/><\/a><p id=\"caption-attachment-1361\" class=\"wp-caption-text\">Maggie Taylor. The divide. 2011. See more images from, and information about, this artist on <a href=\"http:\/\/maggietaylor.com\">her website &#8230;<\/a><\/p><\/div>\n<p>It was my sister who came, down from the mountain, when the rest of them refused. I hadn&#8217;t seen her in ten or eleven years, but she was largely unchanged.<\/p>\n<p>&#8216;Come home,&#8217; she said, kissing my cheek.<\/p>\n<p>&#8216;I can&#8217;t,&#8217; I said, kissing hers in return.<\/p>\n<p>My groom was sleeping by the fire. His long hind legs spread out on the warm stones. When we sat, I tucked my feet under him, out of habit.<\/p>\n<p>I showed her the litter, picked out\u00a0the runt, putting the mewling thing in her arms. She was stiff and proper as a judge, but I saw something soften in her as she held him.<\/p>\n<p>&#8216;Have you named him yet,&#8217; she asked.<\/p>\n<p>I shook my head, my hand tunnelling into the mass of his brothers and sisters, into their tongued and furred squirm. I lifted two of them in one hand and knelt to tuck them against their father&#8217;s side. He nuzzled them in and then licked at my fingers. Did I still taste of this morning&#8217;s love-making? I blushed and pressed my hand into my pocket, hoping my sister had not noticed. She had, of course.<\/p>\n<p>She lifted the runt to her face and studied him. &#8216;I shall call him Paul,&#8217; she said. &#8216;That&#8217;s a sensible name for a sensible boy.&#8217;<\/p>\n<p>Neither the wolf, nor the mountain, agreed*.<\/p>\n<address>*The final line of this micro-story is a phrase borrowed from Aldo Leopold&#8217;s &#8216;Thinking Like a Mountain&#8217;: you can <a href=\"http:\/\/www.eco-action.org\/dt\/thinking.html\">read the full essay online<\/a>)<\/address>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>It was my sister who came, down from the mountain, when the rest of them refused. I hadn&#8217;t seen her in ten or eleven years, but she was largely unchanged. &#8216;Come home,&#8217; she said, kissing my cheek. &#8216;I can&#8217;t,&#8217; I said, kissing hers in return. My groom was sleeping by &hellip; <a href=\"https:\/\/www.perilousadventures.net\/blog\/?p=1360\">Continue reading <span class=\"meta-nav\">&rarr;<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":1361,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"spay_email":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_is_tweetstorm":false},"categories":[725,167,288],"tags":[722,727,747,744,728,745,748,746],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/i1.wp.com\/www.perilousadventures.net\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/09\/maggietaylor.jpg?fit=800%2C800&ssl=1","jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p4LH1G-lW","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.perilousadventures.net\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1360"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.perilousadventures.net\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.perilousadventures.net\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.perilousadventures.net\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.perilousadventures.net\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=1360"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/www.perilousadventures.net\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1360\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1363,"href":"https:\/\/www.perilousadventures.net\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1360\/revisions\/1363"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.perilousadventures.net\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/1361"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.perilousadventures.net\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=1360"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.perilousadventures.net\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=1360"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.perilousadventures.net\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=1360"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}