March 10, 1983 — 5:00 pm
We were in our apartment, looking out the window. The Muskrat was moving slowly spot to spot along the shore of the pond in front of our building. It would swim a few feet, stop to bite and pull at grass along the muddy bank, then move on. It kept at it until some kids got close. It then dove under toward the middle of the pond, and I didn’t see it again.