Her home sat on the edge of a small settlement that had crept too close to the reserve. A thin row of houses meant for people who liked the idea of “living near nature,” but not the reality of it. Most of her neighbors were retirees, families, or city workers who commuted to town.
They enjoyed the views, complained about the monkeys, and called animal control whenever a snake crossed their driveway. Catherine didn’t fit in, not really. To them, she was “the animal lady,” the one who didn’t flinch when a monitor lizard wandered into the garden or when a jackal was spotted near the bins.