They're back; not with a vengeance, but back, just the same.
They appear bolder, too, out in broad daylight, in search (you presume)
of the bare necessities.
All of which got you to notice how careful you've become around them,
wiping up before and after them like they were family, and naturally
they're not (after all, That Job's taken).
You do mind them well, though, and you notice it's just because
you've begun to take such delight in their comings and goings,
and their rituals and ethics. You even wonder sometimes about their
mythologies.
One thing you do not wonder so much about any more is,
the value of your care taking; whether it matters, in the long run,
or in the big picture, to spare the life of a single critter so small,
so insignificant, so less-than-human in scale.
Even if it were no big deal, even in the short run, to you or the family,
you're sure it matters immensely to this one, to that one, to the one
over there hiding behind the cantaloupe.
They've taught you well (they would tell no one) that the shortest distance between a friend and a foe is this: Find some delight in the one or the other
crossing your path today so to treat each one not as a that, but as a
Who.
Who's have souls and with souls, over time and by way of some work,
you can get right next to them, if not with your body, with your
wording.
