“I eventually went up into that little side valley where the rhododendron thickets are and there I sat. I began to read and I read about an hour. Twice rabbits came to within ten feet of me–quivering with nerves–almost ready to drop in nervous breakdown they look when they know something’s wrong but not what. I read on 100 pages then was interrupted by a cat. A black and white cat. It sat within fifteen feet of me, on a rock, and began to stare me out–very offensive. When I threw a sod at it, it just flattened and went on staring. I couldn’t go on reading–the cat completely disturbing the landscape. It wasn’t an interesting wildcat, and while it was there no interesting wild thing would come near, so I moved off and came home, ousted by a cat.”
October 1956 letter from Ted Hughes to Sylvia Plath, Letters of Ted Hughes