The night air was cool with a sweet, smoky smell of a camp fire threading its way past me as I stared upward into the slowly darkening sky. There were very few clouds. The ones above were wispy and rolled like the scales of a fish. They reached out and past me. I had the feeling someone was pulling the blanket of daylight off the bed and the narrow end was caught on the setting sun. While the horizon was a dull, peachy color with grayish blue, the color and clouds spread out over head and mingled into a dark bluish-grey.
Uriah whimpered. He wanted to take a walk in the tall grass. I did not.
“Go on, Uriah! Do your business!” I pointed out towards the pond and lengthening shadows.
Uriah stood and watched me, then nervously shifted from one paw to another.
“Come on! It’s not a trick! There’s no boogieman out there waiting to eat you up..Hmm!’
I frowned and stared between the darkened branches of the Blue Spruce.
“There could be some horrible Ticks in there!”
Uriah whimpered then sat down.
I turned towards the front of the house. Deciding that the ticks may not like to walk the slight incline up hill so I maybe safe if I walk around the house… I can hope!
Uriah followed. First, he peeed on a few of the taller tuffs of grass, as he passed by them, then he stopped to stick his nose in a chipmunk hole and to sit on the tulips. I never understood why he had to sit on my tulips.
I really need to get some diesel and wake up the tractor. That thought crossed my mind as I stood in ankle deep dandelions, thick and dark leafy greens with yellow flowers. Too tall grass is perfect for Ticks, they love it. I kept looking around hoping nothing jumped at me.
For a half hour last night, Michael tried to get a Tick to let go of my leg. The little bugger was covered in soap, then Vaseline, Michael tried to shock him by lighting a match, blowing it out and touching the bug with the hot unlit end. Still he hung on a death grip with his little foot and mouth pinchers. Finally Michael announced he got it off me and with its head still intact. -That really was an odd sentence, could be I’m tired.- I hate Ticks!
A robin yelled at me from the trees and Uriah let out a long loud yawn, time for bed.
Last night I took a picture of the moon. Here it is..
I took these pictures of the flowering Crab Apple trees when it was nearly dark.
Last Tuesday morning I was talking on the phone and surfing the internet, while checking hundreds of emails. When I decided to pull up the Tails web site, which is the Pet rescue place where we adopted Sanosuke in February of this year.
I had sent Tails a copy and link to my Blog story about Sanosuke, the one where I wrote about his adoption. Soon after that Blog posting, Sano’s litter mates were adopted and their pictures disappeared off the adoption site. So when I pulled up their site I was very surprised to see a kitten that looked like one of Sano’s sisters. Her name was Hershey.
I was curious about her history. Why was she still there? Was she brought back? Maybe I was wrong! Cats look very similar, right?
I pulled out Sanosuke’s file and compared the litter numbers; they matched except for the last two digits. Which made sense each kitten would have their own number.
Biting my nails I clicked off the site and went about to reading emails.
Then my curiosity got to me and I called Tails and asked if any of Sanosuke’s litter mates where still there. I gave my phone number to the woman and was told I would get a call back.
Within thirty minutes Tails called back. I was told; one of Sano’s sisters had never been adopted. When the other kittens were adopted they moved her out of the cage into the cat room. It wasn’t a good place for her. She was placed in a room that was being closed off due to a fungal infection.
Ooops!
I was told she was never ill. She never had an infection! Yet, she had to go through the incubation period of nearly two months while she got dipped; physically held down under water with only her eyes and mouth showing. The process can make a cat crazy and this kitten was in a room with a lot of other cats that needed help. They only had two wonderful people to take care of them physically and mentally. Hershey wasn’t given the attention she needed. So her mental health was set to the side while they dealt with other cats, seemly, more stressed than her.
I felt claustrophobic just hearing about it.
Now if you had read my original story on Sanosuke, you would know that he and his litter mates had very little human contact, besides getting medical care and being fed. We were warned he was nearly feral.
Now, here I was hearing that she may never be just right, ‘and’ she will need a lot of one-on-one care. ‘And’ she wasn’t very social. ‘And’ she would freak when someone came near her. I thanked the woman for calling me back and hung up.
Then I hunted down Michael and told him the story.
Michael asked what I was going to do. One more kitten would be an expense. But then again cats are very clean and social animals. But this one may be broken. Then he walked away from me…
It took me ten minutes of thinking.
The cats I had for years were from a mama kitty. She was my daughter’s first animal rescue. My daughter was ten years old at that time. I had been very surprised when that little cat gave birth, in the closet, within a month of coming into the house. Her kittens never left my life. The last one, Sandy died at eighteen while I held her.
I grabbed my keys and headed for the car. Michael laughed and called out the door. “Don’t come back without her!”
When I entered Tails, the receptionist looked up and smiled and asked me if, I was there to adopt Hershey?
Laughing I asked, how she knew? She told me Michael had already called and informed them I was coming for her.
I filled out some paperwork while she located someone to help me.
A wonderfully patient volunteer took me in a room to talk. “When you saw, Hershey how did you get along with her? Was she friendly?”
I had to be honest; I haven’t seen her since we adopted Sanosuke and I told her so. I did ask, if Hershey was the kitten that had been staring at me though the glass wall? She had spotted me when I walked in and we had ‘a moment’ through the glass. I cooed. And she stared.
I was told that was her.
Then, I explained that I was taking, Hershey home to her brother.
The woman looked at me quietly and said. “He may not remember her.”
“He will!” I said with a smile. “I have fed and observed feral cats for years. They know a family member when they are reunited.”
I don’t think she believed me…
She was trying to stop me from being disappointed.
When I said, “They just need to be shown to each other gently and with love.”
The interview was over and I finished signing the papers.
Hershey was placed in a room for me to observe her, and allowing me time to change my mind. I was warned not to enter the room. I was told; she would freak due to her history and lack of human contact, and may hurt me or herself. I needed to wait before I entered the room. She had just clawed the technician who brought her to me
I waited a few minutes for the kitten to move away from the door. Then I entered the room.
I sat on the chair and waited.
She hid behind a chair and stared.
She had a look in her eyes similar to the animals on the commercials that have been abused. So sad and scared! I started talking telling her about her brother. She wasn’t listening to me at all.
Cats need to form a bond with humans in order to see them. Otherwise they have eyes only for other cats. Here she was, stuck in a room with a human. And the only other people she knew would grab her and give her medicine and didn’t have time to play.
Carefully I moved the chair she was hiding behind and picked her up. She was stiff and extremely frighten. I started to rock her like a baby, and then she leaned against me without relaxing.
During this time I could hear the sound of the puppies and dogs from the doggie area. I wanted to go see them, but not today.
So many animals calling out for someone to love!
When I brought her home, Michael grabbed the carrier from the care and carefully set it down in the living room.
Tomoe hissed and hid.
Kenshin glared and hid.
PJ walked up and said, hello. When she hissed at him, PJ looked like his feelings were hurt.
Then
Sanosuke, slowly
walked up
to the carrier.
They touched noses, and made happy sounds. She reached through the bars and gentle touched Sano’s head. He rubbed against the cage as she cried loudly from inside. Sanosuke sat and watched, as we set her up in a cage in the living room. He never stopped taking to her!
They remembered each other and both are very happy. We changed her name to Kaoru…
Helping an animal doesn’t mean you have to adopt. You could volunteer, or donate money, or cat and dog crates, or baby blankets or new toys.
If everyone can save just one animal, just one.. Just think how wonderful that would be!
This weekend was beautiful one of those perfect, mid-western spring days. The skies were baby blue with nary a cloud to be seen. The birds were singing. The winds were just a gentle breeze, and the trees were all budding lime green with a sprinkling of leaves waving as I passed by. The air held a slight chill so I had to wear my orange coat unzipped, I never broke a sweat.
Uriah ran up to me panting. He had his worried face on. His eyes bulging out as he tried to walk as close to me as possible, without actually jumping into my arms.
“Come on Uriah! What’s wrong with you?” I patted him on his head and he paced then leaned into me.
I stood up and looked around not yet getting what the problem was. Then I heard it. The call of the, Warm-Weathered-Mid-Western-Gun-Owner and my main reason for wearing a bright orange stylish coat all-year-round. Avoidance of bullets! Add in the fact that I could be seen from miles off. Unless they think that deer, coyote and raccoons shop at Fleet and Farm, I should be safe.
The sound of a gun being fired caught my attention, along with the immediate high pitch ‘Peeeyuuu!” sound traveling behind it. The bullet must have ricocheted off something then headed in my direction.
Sort of ruined that safe feeling of wearing my orange coat!
I continued on with Uriah around the back path, enjoying the warmer spring air, just a little more leery.
Yesterday when we took the same walk I saw one of my neighbors, standing in the farmer’s air field, at the back of the path. He and his two young boys were digging a hole. When I came close we exchanged pleasantries. Then he explained the farmer gave him permission to shoot the chipmunks. He then told me that the coyotes hunt the chipmunks and dig holes making it unsafe for the farmer to land his planes. Okay..
Then he added. “You shouldn’t be walking around without a gun!” He nodded looking around. “There are Cougars in Illinois that sleep in the trees! Just like in California and they will jump out at you. Or grab little kids, like my boys here,” He pointed to his sons and mimicked biting at the kids, “and then they’ll drag ‘em off” He hesitated for effect then added. “And there are Wolves here now. I know a hunter who saw their tracks just on the other side of town.” Hand on hips, he gave me a few seconds for that to sink in then he continued. “And a Wolf pack will hunt you down if you’re walking alone!” He pointed to the gun slung over his boys shoulder. “That’s why you should never walk around here without a gun.”
I responded back. “Wolves eat rodents! Rats, mice, rabbits, chipmunks… not people!’
“They will if they get hungry enough!”
There are certain points during conversations where I think of Lucy and Charlie Brown, the Peanuts Cartoon characters. This was one of those times.
Lucy had told Charlie Brown, the reason a Palm tree is called a Palm tree is because you can get your entire palm around it. Charlie Brown reacts by clutching his stomach in pain.
I know how he felt…
To be truthful he had me a little nervous. I remembered how Uriah was frightened a couple of times at night, and I mentioned that. (see link #3 below)
“Yeah! Probably a Cougar!” This guy is good. He will nod yes, when he wants you to say yes. And shake his head adamantly when he wants the negative reaction. Right now he was nodding and looping his thumbs in his belt loops. ”Yeah! Cougars!”
Okay I have to stop here. I tried to call the county to ask them about this. But no one called me back. Gee! I wonder why…
A couple of Cougars were sited a year or two ago and they were shot. Illinois doesn’t have cougars on the endangered species list because they are so few. Cougars were exterminated in Illinois before 1870.
As for Wolves, according to ‘Defenders of Wildlife’ site (see link #1 below) Wolves; “were killed in most areas of the United States by the mid 1930s”
The difference being, Wolves are on the endangered species list. (See the link #2, below)
Back to my walk: Uriah was bored he wanted to keep walking he didn’t want to stand around and talk. He kept glancing at the guns, then looking away.
I had to ask this question.” How do you know that a coyote was digging those holes? Could’ve have been anything!”
He answered with a wave of his hand. “Well there are coyote tracks all over the dirt. They are really good diggers.”
“I was just wondering, because we have a lot of holes made by Muskrats.” I pointed behind me, about fifty feet away there was a visible mound of rocks.
“Muskrats? Huh!”
After that answer I was wondering if he knew what a Muskrat was.
“We also have a couple of irritating rats near the outside kennel that dig a lot!”
“Rats! You sure it’s not a opossum?” He gave me that I don’t believe you look.
“No! It’s a rat. A nice fat county Rat!” I held my hands about half a foot apart.
“Could be a raccoon.” He mumbled.
“Coon! No it’s a rat!”
He kept shaking his head, as if I would change my mind and agree it was something else.
“It’s a rat! I have a picture of it. Unless it was a opossum, and it dressed up like a rat!”
Luckily his phone rang and his wife summoned him to dinner. Or he was bringing it with him. I don’t know! I didn’t look at what happened to the chipmunks they had shot.
When I got back in the house, I told Michael we needed a gun to fend off Cougars and Wolves. He wanted to know what I was drinking on my walk…
The very first spring I lived here I had a problem with Bumble Bees. For some weird reason anytime I step outside they have to hit me on the head. Most people think I’m crazy. Now that may bee.. 🙂
All I can say is it is a very weird thing to watch. Most people can’t stop laughing when they see it. I really want to file a grievance with the Bee community!
I haven’t been headbutted, yet, this year. I will let you know when it happens…
This picture was taken this Monday afternoon. Can you see what, or who is sitting in the corner of the outside window?
I had walked away, then turned and took another picture. Can you see he moved to the opposite side of the window?
Here is a close up of Sano…
Here is a close up of who was sitting the window. Yes, I know! This window need painting. I need a hard hat!
The past couple of weeks we went from freezing your butt off, to help me I’m melting usually, all in one day.
Sunday morning, when I stepped outside I was surprised by the warm air and hazy grey skies heavy with moisture. Saturday night the weatherman had announced. “It would be cold in the morning and a warm-up was coming in the early afternoon.” I was glad he got it wrong. It was gorgeous!
It was only eight o’clock in the morning. The warm air and a barrage of happy birds flitting from tree to tree helped Uriah talk me into taking a walk out back.
The path had drained off, but that downed tree still lay across my path. I followed Uriah as he walked around it and closer towards the fence.
Along the northern side of the path, the older Blog Willows grew, with their dark brown tangled tops reached upward. Maybe in few days, when I can take the tractor out, I will be able to push that tree out of the way… Even as that thought skimmed by, I knew from experience, that once the ground was able to hold the weight of the tractor, those roots will be stuck in the ground like cement.
I carefully stepped over the exposed roots and tangled dried grass that held a death grip on the base of the tree. I could see a hole underneath exposing roots and rich black dirt. Pieces of moss clung to the roots.
I mumbled out loud. “There may be an animal’s den in that hole!”
I watched as Uriah stuck his nose close to the hole then stepped back quickly. Using his normal ten second thought process, he caught a different scent and raced ahead of me. I glanced back at the tree and promptly followed Uriah’s lead.
By the time I caught up to Uriah. He was circling an evergreen. The fur on his back was straight up. He was kicking dirt out behind him as he scrapped at the ground. From the corner of my eye I saw something move across the empty field. I couldn’t make out what it was, possibly a deer. The large animal disappeared quickly into a grove of Oak trees. Uriah made a move to chase, but first he looked at me. Now it’s not like Uriah to listen, or ask permission. He knew he would be in trouble if he chased after the animal. Most days he didn’t care. Today, he hesitated. Hmmm! Uriah knew that whatever that was would hurt him and he just wanted me to tell him no. Which I did! Saving face, Uriah happily pranced back to my side.
By the time I circled the path I was heading west and home. Uriah took off in the trees to my right. He never got out of my sight. He even stopped and waited while I watched a flock of starlings in the trees above me. They fanned out then regrouped in a wave of wings and chattering. As soon as they settled in the tops of the trees one bird would rise up and the rest followed in a massive flow of feathers. Red Winged Blackbirds, Robins, Doves, Sparrows, Cardinals, sang around and above me. The noise level was incredibly loud.
The trees that hadn’t budded last week were budding green this week. The grass was growing at odd heights. I sidestepped a fairy circle and headed to the dog kennel.
Uriah panted as he ran up. He stepped into the kennel for water and a mouth full of his kibble. Which I was glad to see wasn’t touched by the birds, or that rat.
Suddenly! Everything fell silent! I checked the skies for signs of the Hawk. I couldn’t hear the Hawk’s high pitch screech. I was positive a predator had to be nearby! All the birds stopped talking… Just as quickly, they started up again. The bird’s voices rose once more to a manic pitch and the wave of sound rolled over me.
I watched as Uriah crunched his biscuits. He nosed around in the grass for every last morsel. My stomach growled! Time for my own breakfast …
I wanted you guys to see; Kenshin and Sano are hot on case of, “The Mice in the Garage!” Will they catch them, or not stay tune!Did you see where that mouse went?
One mouse in the houseTwo mice in the garageThree mice in the barn
It was two AM on Tuesday. I woke up to the cats boisterously running through the hallway and sliding into the bedroom. They bumped into the bed, the walls, and the vertical blinds. I rolled over and drifted back to sleep.
Michael sat up and started talking, “I wonder what’s going on?”
Without looking I muttered, “They’re just playing behind the vertical blinds”
Michael crawled out of bed and carefully stepped in front of the bed, searching the shadows. “No! Something’s up.”
He came around my side of the bed and flipped on the light. “Look at Sano?”
I sat up and Sano was sitting all pretty and proud with a mouse dangling from his mouth.
“It’s fake!” I muttered and tried to lie back down.
“No, that is real” Michael laughed and Sano nodded his head so the mouse, who was being held by his tail, swung upward then came down and was hit against the rug.
Sano’s eyes narrowed; when Tomoe walked up to him and sniffed the mouse, which I need to point out was very much alive. Then Sano growled.
Tomoe glared at Sano as if she wanted to smack him. Michael immediately told me to do something about that growl.
Sorry, I have had one too many mice dropped on my chest while I slept. I am not fond of the critters. To show how much of a chicken I am, I pulled the covers over my head and told Sano to stop growling and take the mouse to his brothers, downstairs.
Instead Sano dropped the mouse. The mouse ran in a circle. Tomoe hates getting bitten so she stood a healthy distance away and just watched.
Sano played with the very fat grey and white mouse like he was playing a pinball game. He wouldn’t allow the mouse to run under the dressers, but he did let him disappear under the bed. The one I was cowering on.
I jumped out of bed and ran in a circle flapping my arms yelling at Michael, “Get that mouse out of the bedroom!” Then I headed out into the hall and called Kenshin and PJ. They recognized my frantic, Oh my! A mouse is in the house! Hysterical call and ran up the stairs to see what they were missing.
With the two older males now trying to find the mouse, I crawled back under the covers. Tomoe crouched on the edge of the bed, hanging over the side and stared at the floor and at Sano, who was carefully scooting out backwards from under the bed.
Michael muttered something I couldn’t understand. So I peeked out from beneath the blanket. He held Sano up for me to see. Sano had that mouse clenched in-between his teeth and once more swinging by its tail. Michael held Sano over the waste basket, and asked Sano to “drop it” -the mouse- into the wastebasket. Michael had to repeat his request three times before Sano opened his jaws and the fat mouse plopped into the plastic bag.
Sano was confused as to where his mouse went to and searched franticly with Kenshin and PJ’s help under and around the bed. Tomoe kept an eye on Michael and followed him out if the bedroom.
At this point, that mouse was out of my sight and I hoped Michael had given him a first class ticket to the moon…
Or, maybe toss him out the door.
The last mouse that was tossed out the door had been caught in a sticky mouse trap. Michael was afraid the cats would get into the garbage and get stuck in the glue. So he had chucked that sticky mess out the door. He figured on scraping it off the grass in the morning. Instead it landed right in the path of a coyote. Yapping loudly, that coyote raced across the fields with a rectangular piece of plastic and a struggling mouse stuck to his nose…
The past few days the weather has been up and down, sideways and in circles.
Last night we had pouring rain, thunder and dangerous lightening. During the first part of that storm I was outside, walking as close to the house as I could get, while I tried to encourage Uriah to do his business in a hurry. Nothing hurries Uriah. I stood back and watched the dark sky light up emphasizing the jagged edges of the high Cumulonimbus clouds. A rolling rumble vibrated underneath my feet and still Uriah sniffed at the edge of the Blue Spruce, unperturbed. It was only when I told him to get in the house that he started to whine. He hates thunderstorms, but Uriah’s idea of safety during a storm is to stand out in the open and stare up into the electrified sky.
On Sunday, when the path was still a path, severe winds blew over a tree. Fortunately I wasn’t out there when it happened. I never made it though the back yard, even attempting to make my way to the back path was impossible. The winds were irritatingly loud! I couldn’t see past my hair, no matter how hard I tried, and at one point I thought I saw Miss Gulch pedaling over head, followed closely by that Pheasant, and That Rat. With each step I fought to move forward. I could have tied a rope to Uriah and flew him like a kite. Alright, a fat, pudgy unhappy kite…
Today the path is underwater and the air is so heavy I was feeling out of sorts, dizzy, sneezing, and hard to breathe I am moving very, very slow. On the bright side the toads are croaking loudly and the mosquitoes are out and biting. Hmmm!
Back to the tree! In order for me to remove that tree I will need to use the tractor, and ‘she’ is still asleep covered in blankets in the barn.
I stood back and paced out the distance from the beginning of the path to the downed tree, sixty steps. Not good! Last year we had a tree fall over and it was only a fraction of the distance, and a forth the size. Taking the tractor in that area would set me up for disaster with all that soft wet mud under the large wheels. If I stood in the mud I would sink in. If I add a tractor with spinning wheels and an idiot driving (me) … Well, the tractor will sink deep in the mud, and at that point I will need to call someone in to pull it out.
Still I stood there and thought about it…
If I used the tractor I will need a very long chain that I can connect to the tree, and the tractor. All the while crossing my fingers, that both will hold on the first attempt. They never do! One side or both will slip off and have to be reconnected, while I’m left standing in the thick black, oozing mud.
I considered leaving the tree and cutting a path around it..hmmm! I have a chain saw, sort of. Michael hid it somewhere, so that idea might not work.
Today isn’t the day to work out the technicalities, too much water and a lack of diesel, and a hidden chainsaw.
Last resort… Woodpeckers! Eventually they would pound holes in that tree allowing it to fall apart. I’m voting for the birds.
Yesterday and this morning I took my walk looking up. The trees are just starting to bud. And the flowers are just beginning to show their colors.
The ground is littered with dried left over leaves, brittle and grayish brown, crunching under foot. Even as the grass makes an attempt to turn green, as the moss pulls on its most brilliant lime green coat of the season. The main show is taking place above ground; branches are turning colors as spring moves through them. Don’t miss the show!
“In the spring I have counted one hundred and thirty-six different kinds of weather inside of four and twenty hours.” ~Mark Twain
Within the past two hours, I have seen heavy fog, thick dark grey clouds, and a bright blue sky, that shifted to a pale whitish-blue.
A bellowing cloud of smoke passed through my house as the farmer burned off the dried grass around the creek bed. The thick heavy smoke made it a little uncomfortable to breathe. So Uriah and I headed off to the mail box and I took pictures of the blooming, Pussy Willow as Uriah disappeared to wade in the pond.
Uriah came back out of the cold pond and pulled his fat tummy across the grass, this is his way of toweling himself off…
The sun rose slowly, over a humid, cool and very clear moment. The air was still. I watched as two dozen Robins pacing out the yard. I was an interloper into their world, for this moment, they let me stay.
I gripped my hot coffee cup, held it close and stared out over the empty field. The sun was hidden behind the clouds that sat on the horizon, I looked up the sky was shifting to a sleepy blue above me, without a slip of a cloud.
This time of day holds loosely to a cool silence. Where nature is kind and allows us to wake up slowly as nocturnal animals drift off to sleep.
I use to walk out in this quiet, barefoot. I would step easily around and over rocks and spiders. It is the spiders that are awake; they weave and repair their webs all night catching insects unawares in the darkness. Now those webs shimmer with icy dewdrops and I stay on the deck.
