Tag: cats

Categories
Nature Writing

A Cold Winter Morning, Cat Wants A Drink Of Water~

 

This morning I was woken up by Tomoe, our black half-Siamese female. She jumped into the bed and rubbed on my head, until I stirred.

”Tomoe, morning.” I mumbled pulling the covers over my head.

 Now that ruse doesn’t deter Tomoe.  She stuck her head under the edge of the blanket just enough so she found my hair and gave it a little tug.

“Ok, I’m awake. What do you want?’ I peeked out from under the blanket.

 Tomoe happily bumped my forehead and chirped.  She turned her back to me and jumped off the bed and sauntered towards the bathroom.

Tomoe’s greatest enjoyment is drinking water out of my husband’s hand. I am not her first choice; she just couldn’t wake him up. Reluctantly she decided to allow me the honor.

 I rolled over and poked Michael’s shoulder. “Tomoe’s thirsty.”

 He made an indistinguishable sound, and didn’t move.

Tomoe doesn’t meow like the other cats, she chirps like a baby chick, very sweet and gentle.  This coming June she will be with us three years. We had decided to adopt one cat, and came home with two.

 At the shelter, she was frightened, and hurt from over zealous little ones.

When she was handed to my husband she weighed two pounds. From that point on he never put her down.  He carries her, coo’s at her and hand feeds her food and water. When she is frightened, he will hide under blankets with her.  The house is safe, as long she can see her Daddy.   She plays Xbox with him, and complains if he isn’t feeling well. She follows him everywhere.

I could hear her musical chirp echoing off the bathroom walls.

I could tell myself I had two choices. One; stay in bed and ignore her. Or two; get up and give her what she wants.   But, in reality I have to get up. Tomoe is calling!

 I pushed off the blankets, and followed her summons.

Tomoe was pacing on the edge of the sink.  Her tail held high, she rubbed against my arm and asked for kisses, by lifting her head up high, and placing one paw on my arm.

 The running water sounded loud in the early morning quiet.  I filled the palm of my hand with cold water. Then turned off the faucet, and waited with my eyes closed as she daintily drank from my hand.

When she was finished she jumped off the sink and took my spot in the bed. 

At that point, Uriah realized I was up and decided he wanted out. Grabbing my robe I followed his happy wiggle to the door. I stepped outside with him, in that frigid morning air.

The sun was a defused yellow-white blur; it took over the entire southern sky.

The sky itself was a soft looking, powdery blue.

 Long rectangular shadows, from the trees, added straight blue lines that stretched along the ground.  Shadows skipped along the snow in frozen waves, patterned haphazardly across the yard in blues, grays and whites. 

Every tree was covered in whitish-blue frost, and the horizon was a blur of pastel blues.  

I could tell you how quiet it was. But I would be lying. One truck after another passed by on the road. I could hear the whining rumble before I saw them. They passed in a cloud of snow. Someone was busy working. I just wished they would slow down.

 I tossed out a few pieces of dog food onto the snow.  And watched as Uriah waddled off under the Blue Spruce, I stepped back inside the warm house.

  After about fifteen minutes I went to the door to let Uriah back in.  I was greeted by the shrill screech of a Blue Jay.  I watched the Young Blue Jay through the window. This bird’s color was duller, more grey than blue.  Its beak was very long and sharp looking.  Still a beauty!   The Jay landed next to the dog food.  Looked up at me, and grabbed one piece of kibble, and carried it off over the barn. Then turned to the east and blended into the trees.

Uriah came running up to the door with snow on his nose and back. He glanced at the pieces of kibble still in the snow.  Pawed at one piece and ate it. 

When I opened the door, he hurried back into where it was warm…

Categories
Uncategorized

What A Difference A Day Makes~Merry Christmas!

This morning when I stepped outside I was able to walk around to the dog kennel.  The ice had disappeared off the driveway and the deck.  It was in the mid-thirties. The air was oddly warm, and had a feel of spring, even though snow still covers the yard. The puffy clouds above me cleared and blue sky shown through.

I am going out to relatives for Christmas dinner and I wanted to post before I left. Here is a piece I wrote, December 17, 2009, I had written two other Blog entries that day, and I thought three was just too much.  So I posted it today.  Enjoy!

 I walked out the garage door, and pulled it closed behind me. The wet snow earlier in the week had warped the door frame, now with everything frozen the door was pulling back when I opened or closed it. Why is it, that when I can’t work outside, due to the weather. Something breaks, or as in this case the door frame, the side by the near the hinges, decides to disintegrate…

The sky above me is bright blue and clear. The air is dangerously cold!  I was surprised to see a dozen, or so small flighty birds hopping from tree to tree and singing.

Slipping my knit hat off my head I stopped to listen. I could hear birds chirping, singing and complaining.  Looking around I found even more of them in the trees next to the barn and shed.  They flittered between the dead evergreen next to the shed and the gravel in front of the barn. Then onto the leafless mulberry trees on the West side of the barn.

Small round birds, I believe they are, Dark-Eyed Juncos, soft grey feathers on their heads and back.  That grey reaches along the top of their tail feathers, then changes to white slipping to their underbelly and chest. They looked like they sat in a can of white paint. Right now they were complaining loudly and flying from one tree to the next.  How dare I interrupt their fun!

I heard a single call of a Blue Jay in the trees, then silence.  

Off around the back yard, looking south, past the outside dog kennel.   I could see a red blur jumping in-between the miniature crab apple trees. Male Cardinals, searching out dried seeds from the taller dried grasses that leaned against the trees.

Slipping on my hat, I whistled for Uriah. Slowly and nosily, we made our way across the frozen snow to the back path.

 I stopped at the mid-way point, the Northern tree line.  To stare up into the blue, blue sky in-between the branches of a fifty foot tree. The sky was a solid dark blue, almost an Electric Indigo.  The deepest part of that color sat on the tips of that leafless tree, and then weakened into a lighter blue as I moved off center.  Looking towards the south-east, the sun was a brilliant white, fading the sky into a powder blue.

Today, I was using two ski poles to maneuver through the snow.  Walking carefully, I made my way towards home. The snow, where I had walked days before, had frozen over into an uneven ice rink.

Uriah’s long black nails on the frozen snow, made a sound similar to him walking on a wooden floor. His toes were spread out over the ice, and he gripped with those hard nails.   He stayed by me for a moment, and then ran under the old apples trees chasing something only he could see. 

 I purposely cut out a new pattern in the snow, avoiding the dangerous path. I set my heels down first so I could break the top of the snow and keep my balance. Otherwise, stepping down carefully wouldn’t allow me to break through the top layer of ice, and I nearly lost my footing.

I began to notice the sound. My first step with my heel, was like an ‘AHHR- then, to complete the step, the rest of my foot rolled into the snow, with a, ‘RRRRR,’ sound.

Ahhhrrr-rrrrrr …

Add in the sound of the ski poles. Starting out with a stabbing crunching, then ending with a  ‘Brrrrr,’ sound, as I tilted the pole moving into the next step.

Walking along, I was paying so much attention to the sounds I was making, that they became over powering. I stopped and removed my hat so I could hear something other than my noisy intrusion into such a quiet, sunny day, 

I couldn’t hear one bird on the path, nothing! Silence! I probably scared them deeper into the tree line.   

Walking back towards the house and dragging my noise with me.  When I heard the sound of the train in town, I stopped to listen, “Thump- thump- thump!”  Without the winds the train sounded muffled and very far away. Like a thick growl, vibrating along the ground….

*

*

 
Categories
Nature Writing

Where Will The Hawks Nest If All The Trees Are Gone?~

Everyone was woken up this morning, at seven o’clock, by Kenshin. He ran across the bed.  He pushed aside the vertical blinds. And he pawed at the closed windows. Then he talked and talked, and talked. Siamese talk a lot. They are very vocal cats…

I crawled out of bed and looked out the bathroom window.

  I saw the dark grey sky. I noticed the reddish color of the decks railings were topped with an icing of snow.   And then, I become aware of a slight movement near the bottom section of the deck. I scanned the lower deck for the rats.  I assumed,  the rats must have gotten Kenshin all worked up.  

But, it wasn’t the rat!  It was a very large hawk perched on the railing, just above the rat’s habitat.  This Buteo was not amused! I disturbed him!  It could have been the Red-tailed Hawk…  But, he looked a lot like the Swainson’s hawk that lives around here.

His breast feathers were puffed up, mottled white and reddish orange, mixed in with brown and black.  His deep rich colors blended in with his beige, downy winter feathers.  

The feathers on his head were slick dark, with browns and blacks. I didn’t notice the color of his tail feathers.  They were hidden by the decks railing. And I couldn’t see the color of his eyes. But I felt his gaze when he turned his head slightly.  He ruffled his feathers, in an irritated matter. His beak was hooked and sharp, thick and dark in color.

His stance was of pride.  A Buteo!  It radiated from him. He was beauty.  Beyond everything that was around him. He lived in this moment.

 I wished that I could be that self-assured, and free… There is irony in that word, “free.”

While he watched me, I saw a flicker of concern flash over his eyes. He stretched out his wings and jumped, and glided effortlessly along the ground.  Then he swooped upward into the trees.

I watched him spin and settle on a thin branch.  I immediately thought of how this hawk lost another nesting tree.

The past few days, the air has held a sweet, woody scent. Yesterday I saw what made that smell.

A few miles from my home, there is a grove of Oak trees.  Their ages ranged from seventy to hundred-fifty years old, craggily towering giants.

 I drove past those old trees yesterday and I saw empty spaces and tree stumps.  The Oaks were being cut down. I saw neatly stacked coffins waiting to be carted away.

Why cut down the trees during an ecological crisis?  Shouldn’t we be conserving nature? 

I find all this all very heartbreaking.  

A few hours later, I stepped  out on my deck. The clouds hung heavy and grey.  

In that muffled, snow covered silence.  I heard the hawk’s high pitch screech…

*

 Today, I reached my 2,000th  hit on my site today..Thank you guys! Comment and ask me to add you to my BlogRoll:-)

You can hear the call of the Swainson’s hawk, and other birds here;

http://identify.whatbird.com/obj/44/_/Swainsons_Hawk.aspx

Categories
Nature Writing

Snowball Hockey Played With The Cat’s Rules~

I stepped outside on the deck and watched the snow gently float to the ground; everything was covered with a wispy cloud of white.

 Perception and location is everything when snow gazing. Mere inches in front of my face, gigantic flakes drifted quickly down to earth. There were hand sized spaces between each one.

 Farther out in the yard the snow came down smaller, compact and fast, with hardly enough room for the tip of a pencil to fit between each flake.  The Bog Willows and apple trees looked as though they were caught in a snow globe snowstorm.

I stared upwards into the fast, falling snow.  I watched large flakes rapidly falling towards me, looking like bright stars as they fell from the grey-white sky. They touched my face with a stinging cold, and held onto my eyelashes and hair.

Before I stepped back into the house, I stomped my feet on the outside welcome mat.  Kenshin, our two year old Siamese mix, rushed up to the door as I entered.  I pushed him back and stepped into the kitchen.  He stared up at me with his blue eyes. Then he turned and rubbed against my leg, the wall, the door, and the kitchen table leg.

I reached down and scooped him up.  “What’s up, Kenshin? You want to see outside?”  I asked, then reopened the inside glass door, but not the outside screen.

He was quiet in my arms, as we stood there watching the snowflakes drifting to the ground.

There wasn’t a wind.  Each flake drifted slowly on a downward path, one after another. Hundreds of puffy crystalline flakes piled up on the wooden deck.

With one paw, Kenshin reached out and touched the screen. He loves snow.  I slipped my shoes back on, held him tightly and opened the screen door, then stepped outside.

Kenshin immediately started to thunder purr, vibrating my arms as I held him tight.   Carefully, I walked over to the garden table, which sat outside year-round. 

 Kenshin rolled over in my arms so he faced the sky.  When he realized I was near the table, he twisted and leaped from my arms, landing in the center of the snow covered table.  Instantly, he rolled over and over covering himself with snow.  Then laid quietly on his back and watched the snow drift down on him. 

Being a very active cat, that immobility lasted a whole-one-minute.  Then he began batting at the flakes and purred even louder.

I laughed!  His cheeks puffed up in a grin.

The snow was falling faster.  Kenshin got some in his eyes, and on his nose.  He was not happy with that! Within a split second, he leapt upwards, turned his feet towards the ground and landed in the middle of the table.  Within that same moment, he slid to the floor and scampered under the table.  From there, he batted at the clumps of snow left behind from my shoes.

Deep into his insane mode, Kenshin slid around the deck like a hockey player chasing a puck.

Quickly, I moved over to the stairs and sat on the top step.  I waited for him to make a break. I would never be able to catch him if he got down the steps.

He can leap straight up in the air nearly five feet, when he gets crazed. Like he was now!   He moves at lightning speeds.  He also loves dogs. And with the overcast sky, I can bet we were being watched from the trees.  I wasn’t going to give him a chance at getting passed me, and into the yard.

Suddenly, Kenshin jumped up and twisted in mid-air, then slid in my direction.   He wasn’t happy when I grabbed him in mid-slide. 

Holding onto the railings, I moved slowly back into the house. Kenshin decided to lie in my arms upside down so he could bat at a few more flakes.

I put him down on the rug next to the door, and he took off fast. He slid on his hind quarters through the living room, then down the hall and back again. He was jumping and flipping crazily from the snow melting on his back.

I brought him a hard packed snowball and rolled across the floor.  He grabbed it with his paws and took off for the goal line…

Categories
Nature Writing

“The Best Laid Schemes O’ Mice An’ Men Go Often Askew”~Robert Burns

Yesterday  morning,  I was up with the sun. I opened the window blinds next to the computer, the window that faces east and I watched the sunrise.  A blanket of Altostratus clouds covered half the sky, rippling from the sunset towards the west.

  Along the horizon a narrow strip of pinkish, reddish, sunrise slipped through the break in the clouds and spread upwards, weaving under and over the clouds.  Then peeked out to outline the ripple of clouds in a yellow, white, and pink tinge, all the while the clouds raced, from west to east, along the southern skyline.

Kenshin, my half Siamese male, jumped effortlessly onto the windowsill. He settled his hind legs, with a wiggle, positioning himself on the ledge.  The tip of his tail flipped as he stared outside.

Kenshin’s sister, Tomoe, jumped up next to him in perfect pantomime.  With a flip of her tail she sat beside him. Her shining black fur rolled in irritation.   They both turned, two set of eyes followed my every move, his light blue and her bright gold eyes.   

 Loosing interest in me, they turned back to the window and watched a rat hopping around the outside kennel.  Their mouths quivered.  An odd sound came from both of them. He made a high pitch growling meowing sound. She kept opening and closing her mouth with a smacking sound. They both stared out the window, then back at me, willing me to open the window so they could do what cats do best…  Hunt!

“No, Kenshin! No, Tomoe, I have to trap those rats myself.” 

I don’t know if they understood what I said, or just got tired of wishing after a rat,  when I added, “No outside!” They both jumped down, and Kenshin gave me downward frown.  Tomoe just glared, as she flashed those golden eyes.   They both ran out of the room giving me a backward, scowl. A teenage girl couldn’t have done that look any better.  

One rat, was an irritation, I counted six! They aren’t big. About the size of my hand, but they have to go!  Just figuring out how is the problem.

 I Googled, “How to kill a rat humanely.”

One site said, use poison.  Nope not an option!  I don’t want to kill the Hawks and Owls that hunt around here. Beside the obvious, poison can kill my cat or dog if they eat the dieing rat.

If a poisoned rat gets caught in the walls, Well, that smell will be horrible. I  wondered what would happen if it died, lying on the dirt of my garden and I didn’t see it until spring. Wouldn’t that poison leach into the soil? Big, emphatic, “Yes”  answers that question.

 I found, ‘Rat Zappers.’ on Amazon.  Electrocute the rat starting at forty dollars and up. I checked my purse, no money, on to the next idea.

I found a site, that had the stomp and squish method- it says it all.

There is the bee bee gun method. I looked at the windows and the chain link fence and saw how that could go wrong.

The best, economical rat trap is a cat.  If the rat stays outside, and my cats stay only indoors, they won’t come in direct contact with each other.  But if they ever come inside, they will be used as a squeaky toy. The proximity factor just knocked Kenshin and Tomoe out of the equation. 

I have a live catch trap in the barn. I decided that would be the best first try, for now. Besides I won’t need to pay for the supplies.

I headed for the barn, and dug out the trap and placed it in Uriah’s kennel. I put some of his food on the inside platform, which in theory is suppose to close the door when the rat steps on it.  That’s the plan.

“The best laid schemes o’ mice an’ men Go often askew,” ~ Robert Burns’s poem, ‘To a Mouse.’

I had three rats in the cage; they were walking all over that platform. And it never triggered the cage door…

I went back outside and tried to loosen the piece of metal.  Then I placed a board across the platform, with food perched on top.

I went back into the house and watched. Not one of those rats came near the cage. I will leave the trap outside all night.

I just hope I don’t catch a skunk…

I got my 1,000 hit on my site today..Thank you guys! Comment and ask me to add you to my BlogRoll:-)

Jones & Son, The rat trap people
http://www.rattraps.org.uk/Rat-Traps/about.aspx
Rat Zapper
http://www.amazon.com/s?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=rat+zapper+ultra
Robert Burns World Federation
http://www.worldburnsclub.com/poems/translations/554.htm
Categories
Nature Writing

Mice are perfect cat food

mouseIt’s nearly five in the morning. The heat is running and Uriah is asleep.  My cats are up and energetic, and the outside nocturnal animals aren’t bumping against the house.

This is that very quiet point of the day. I’m usually in bed, but Kenshin, my male half Siamese heard me tossing and turning and said ‘hello.’

I’m not about to step outside, its  freezing- 34 degrees. I am staying inside.

The walls are quiet; come to think of it I didn’t hear any scratching at all last night. Hopefully all the mice have been caught or chased out by the cats.

This has been a great summer for mice; they tried to have the run of the house. My cats were catching them at a rate of one mouse per week. Normally, the mice only try to come inside  in the fall after the farmers harvested their crops.

I still have a chance at more mice soon.  The farmer still has feeder corn standing tall in his south side field. The cats will be happy…

Country mice and rats are slightly different than their city cousins. They are cleaner, and healthier looking. This is my opinion, from what I observed of the little rodents, from my perch on a chair, the couch or in the bathtub.

Just recently a rat took up residence near the outside dog kennel, which happens to be right outside my office window.

When Uriah wants to stay outside all day, I put a cup full of dry dog food outside with him. The rat will come running as if I were feeding him. Sitting upright, next to the dog bowl, looking eerily like a cartoon rat. If it starts talking I’m in trouble.

That rat’s days are numbered.  The hawk has been circling the deck and I have seen the owl during the day a lot this summer.

Just to clarify I don’t like mice or rats running around where I live! The comical run though the house with me heading for high ground is not fun. 

A couple of weeks ago, Kenshin came running out of the kitchen, inches behind a large mouse. I happened to be walking into the kitchen at the same time. I had a mouse and a cat running in circles around me, literally! 

Cats are great mousers. I am not!

Cats love to give me mice. I have learned how to be thankful when they drop them at my feet or on my chest when I’m sleeping…

Keeping with the Green theme, I don’t use poisons. Poison is very bad for other animals that feed on mice.

Besides, a mouse is the perfect cat food, And a cat is a pefect mouser.

 http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:House_mouse.jpg

Categories
Nature Writing Poetry Rambling

Curiosity can always get to me, and today is not an exception

Curiosity can always get to me, and today is not an exception.

corn 

The farmers haven’t cut down the feeder corn,yet and I find it so mysterious, scary and beautiful all at the same time. When I get enamored by a thought I will end up acting on my curiosity, which is how I ended up wandering around my fallen, barbed wire fence, and standing in the sinking mud to get a, “good look” at the corn field. 

 There are other plants that grow along the edges of a corn field; Milkweeds, Queens Anne’s Lace and a multitude of weeds that as you step past them will deposit burs in your clothing, hair and along your ankles connecting to your socks and shoes making it a treat to remove.

None of that mattered.

  I wanted stand next to the towering rows of corn.

Golden, browns and beiges streaked with green and yellows stood in formation. The large ears of corn still connected to the stalks. Some of the corn had deep orangey, yellow kernels peeking out. This is not the type of corn that if you squeeze a kernel with your nail it will pop a milky sweet juice.   These kernels are hard. They may end up as Ethanol, livestock feed, a starch, sweetener or for use in fermentation.  

 I could see where a passing deer, or a hungry raccoon, possum, or Badger ripped off some ears and carried them onto my property and under a bush to feast. A few kernels were on the ground. I knew from years of walking around here, that tomorrow morning if I were to check they would be gone, eaten.

 Pulling my feet from the mud, with a distinct gooey sound I stepped next to the first row of corn stalks, and looked up, at their waving tops. I tried to focus on the rows deeper into the field. They were so thick I could only see two ahead of me, and then they blended together like a wallpaper field, or a movie set with either zombies, or dreams being chased way.

“Hey Uriah can you chase away a Zombie?” I laughed as Uriah looked around nervously. “I guess not.” I signed as he seemed to take offense by ducking his head and starring at the ground. 

The bitter smell of brown wet leaves, moved around me. Then drifting past as the wind picked up, racing the rain clouds into another county, allowing the sun to spread across my face.  The sky brightened with white puffy clouds and a deep blue sky.

This is the moment I relish! The tops of this corn field wave around me as I stood quietly. Here in my old, mud covered gyms shoes, with wet socks while something crawls down my back.  I am happy.

Corn moves my car…and then

My attitude

Sweetens my dinner… and

My desserts

Then eases through my digestive track

To return

Looking as if it never left

 

 

 

“Illinois Corn”

http://www.ilcorn.org/uploads/documents/uploader/184It%20Begins%20with%20a%20Kernel.pdf

“National Corn Growers Association” 

http://lepton.marz.com/ncga/comm_dev_center/index_PG.asp

“Kane County Farm Bureau”

http://www.kanecfb.com/links.html