Despite her midnight gnawing on the corpses of rats, Minnie likes to get fed first thing in the morning, and when I got up this morning at dawn, she was ahead of me, waiting by the back door. It is good to see Minnie coming into her own. I suppose everything is a gift in its own way. Mother is gone, Minnie is strutting all over the farm and the barn, demanding food and attention and sun and cuddling. And getting all of those things.