Rory left the car running and ran back into the house to fetch her overnight bag because you never know. It’s true. You don’t. She never knew that car was going to take itself off down the hill and slam right into the neighbor’s shed, crushing the goat and both the rabbits. That was the beginning of the trouble. Up until then, she’d gotten along just fine with the Forsbergs. They minded their own business and she minded hers, but after that incident there was no minding anymore. The Forsbergs let everyone in town know exactly what they thought of that irresponsible scamp, and snuck over in the middle of the night to leave all manner of dead creatures wrapped in burlap and hung from her front door head, usually with a casually scrawled note attached mentioning something about critters and their just desserts. She put up with it for a while. After all, she felt guilty about what she’d done but finally she had enough and so one day, after everyone else had gone off to work and the coast looked like it was clear, she sauntered on over there and took the cat. She and the cat went for a ride and she left it somewhere far away.