Soon after my husband and I met, he brought me a feisty calico kitten, who grew up to be a feisty calico cat. One summer, we worked at a tree nursery/landscaping business, and we stayed on site in a small pickup bed camper. More than once I found birds in various stages of disassembly. One memorable night, I awoke in the wee hours to find my cat crouching on my chest, eyes glowing greenly, with a recently deceased robin clamped in her jaws. A not-so-unusual occurrence.

What is more noteworthy is when one receives such a gift from a human child. Here’s how it went down. I was in my classroom of borrowed fifth graders, in Aniak, Alaska, right after lunch. I was in the process of lowering the small foam ball from the ceiling so that the kids could take turns jumping up to tap it, when a kindergartener appeared at my door. She held up a plastic bag of what appeared to be small bloody objects.

“My teachers said you might want this!” she said happily.

I peered at the bag in confusion. Luckily, an aide was in the room with me, and he explained.

“It’s a grouse,” he said. “It hit the window of the kindergarten classroom and the teacher cleaned it.” Now, I had seen this young woman wrangle a snow machine, so I had no doubt that such would be her response to a grouse hitting her classroom window. (I, of course, would be much more likely to give it a state funeral.)

Anyway, I recovered my wits and graciously accepted the gift. Later I fixed it with stir-fry vegetables, and it was tender and sweet.

Some nights after that, I, along with many other people, went out on the dike to watch the river ice go out. As I stood there, a small girl approached me.

“What’s your name?” she asked me. I told her, and her eyes grew wide with delight. “I gave you the grouse!” she cried. Why yes, dear little girl, you did indeed.