The Mud Cat
[Author's Note: This story was written for the Geauga Park District's 22nd Annual Nature Writing Contest. For one reason or another, it did not win. Perhaps it was a bit too dark?] Barry had decided to treat himself to a challenge. His hiking boots were now broken in, so when he picked his route through the woods, he picked one he had never done before. It promised lots of up- and down-hill steps, narrow paths, and the best thing of all: complete solitude. As he walked down the trail, he took in the fresh smells of spring. The earth was loamy with a recent rain. That, mixed with the scent of maple and pine energized him on his trek. He took a deep breath, enjoying it. When he reached the top of a hill, he rested beside a gulch and took a moment to appreciate the engulfing nature. He closed his eyes and listened. He listened to the wind rustling the leaves, the birds calling in the distance, and the panicked meows of a cat. That didn’t seem right. He listened again. Sure