What is in that bush?!

I am setting here in Dallas in my bedroom (but I think if I am not here it could be anyone's bedroom, not just mine.) and outside the window is a bush and in the bush is a mother bird and at least 2 babies.  The babies are fully feathered and hopping around from twig to twig.  Mother just flew in and crammed something down the little birds throat.  He does not look very happy about it, but mother knows best!  I am afraid to get my camera because if the flash scares the little fellow he may lose his grip and fall to the ground.  Sam told he there is a cat that hangs out around here and we all know what cats are good for don't we?  Well actually, they are good for several things, but I am talking here about their eating of the birds and such.

(Side note here.  Right now at my house there us a mouse running loose that my Icarus brought in and turned loose for  me to catch.  See, she loves me and knows I am incapable of catching my own mouse so she is trying to make it easier for me.  I am hoping that by being gone for almost 2 weeks, she will be mad enough at me that she will will not care if I starve.  We will see how that goes!)

It is amazing to think that probably 30 days ago this little bird was just popping out of an egg maybe an inch in diameter or less.  And now he has all is feathers and a very big beak for the mother to cram food into.  She just came and did it again.  I am sorry, but if that was my baby I would not feed it!  It actually tries to fight her off when she comes.  I do not see the other bird, so either it flew away or the cat carried it off for breakfast.  Oh, never mind!  They are right there side by side so mother is feeding them at the same time.

It is amazing how nature works, isn't it?  Birds do not appear to be very smart, but this bird has managed to hatch out at least 2 babies and kept them out of the cat's mouth long enough that soon they will fly away and start their own nest somewhere.  If they do not fly away today it is going to surprise me.

Oh, oh!  Sam is home.  I better go clean up my mess before he sees it!

It must be spring.

I was setting at the computer today and I felt something brush my hair.  Now since I live alone here with a cat and a dog, something brushing past my head is cause to make me become alert.  Sure enough, a little Sparrow landed on the shadowbox on the wall by my desk.  I opened the front door and tried to shoo him that way, but he did not understand.  Of course Icarus was helping me since she had brought him in with hopes of him being supper for her.  I finally got him herded into a place where I could drop a dish towel over him and carry him outside.  I found him a nice place inside an evergreen where he could safely get his bearings before flying back to his family.  

I do not know why that silly cat becomes a hunter in the Spring of the year or maybe it is the birds are young and not wise to the ways of cats and are more easily caught.  Now the wind is whistling through a window that is not quite shut and scaring me.  I guess maybe I am a little paranoid because I went out to Los Pobres for lunch with my friends out there and on the way home I got to thinking about that little white line in the middle of the road.  Life is sort of like that line.  As long as I stay on my side and the car coming towards me stays on the other side, we are both good to go and will pass by never really seeing each other at all.  But if one of us were to cross that line we would both suffer.  Life is like that.  As long as I do the things expected of me and you do the things expected of you, we will never have a problem.  We drift through life never really knowing the people we see on a daily basis and then one day, we are gone.  

Some times I think maybe I am lonely, but I do not want to change my life to incorporate another human into it.  I go to bed when I am tired and get up when I am through sleeping.  If there were another person here, I would need to take their needs into consideration.  I eat what I want, when I want and rarely close the door when I shower.  I may get up at 3:30 AM or sleep till 6:00.  I have been known to eat lunch in my pajamas's and sometimes the sink is full of dirty dishes and the laundry covers the floor in the bathroom.  I do not always answer the phone just because it rings.

So, this is my mood tonight.  Needless to say, I do not like the wind.  I have never really seen a use for it,  but then nobody really asked me, did they?

Just a hairy mass of molecules.

My late husband had his own way of describing the various pets we had over the years.  He called them a "hairy mass of molecules"  and that seemed to describe about any one we had.

When I married him I had a dog named Sysnyck.  She was a poodle/Chihuahua mix.  Very black and with the hair that required a groomer.  She was named after a television show that was about a drill instructor that opened a gym in the heart of gang territory in New York City. I just name my animals whatever comes to mind.  No thought for gender or looks or size.   Sysnyck lived to be 12 years old and died of kidney failure, a weakness in both of the breeds at the time.  She is buried in the front yard.

Then Kenny's sister gave us a red dingo cattle dog.  We got her the same day I peeled 3 bushels of chile, so we named her Chile.  I guess she was actually a heeler.  She was nuts about tennis balls and loved to play catch.  She played catch as long as someone would throw the ball.  Key here was it was between you and her.  You throw and she fetched.  One time we had company come and they had a couple boys about 11 or 12.  We sent them out to play fetch with Chile and they decided to toss the ball to each other.  The came in crying and terrified because Chile sent them up the tree because that was HER ball.  End of that game. 

She would play with one ball at a time.  When she was tired of the ball she would shred it and pick another.  We picked up 12 tennis balls at the flea market once and brought them home to her.  We dumped them all out on the ground.  She sorted through and got the one she wanted and the rest were put away because if we threw one of those she would not chase it.  She only wanted HER ball and when she tore it up she was ready for another.  She is in the front yard.

While Chile was still with us we got a little blond poodle since that was Kenny's choice of a dog.  Chile helped house train Tammy by standing in the flap of the doggie door so Tammy could go out and in to potty.  Damn smart dog.  Chile died before Tammy.

Next dog was another heeler named Polly.  She was white with one black eye.  She became very possessive of me and finally attacked Tammy for getting too close to me.  That was sad as we had to have Tammy put down from  her injuries.  We thought about having Polly done also, but decided to be a one dog house instead and that was what we did until the neighbor lady came dragging home a little white dog with 2 black eyes.  By this time Polly was ready for company and we pretty much lived happily until Polly passed and Elvira needed rescued.  I never knew how old she was.

Also interspersed through the years were several cats.  I only like calico cats and I only like distinctly marked Calico.  First was Charmin who lived 18 or 19 years.  Boots was Kenny's cat because he was a boy and he was gray.  He was around 15 years.  I finally got my last Calico 7 years ago.  I had a friend who named her.  Calicos are always female for some reason.  He named her Icarus.  When I explained that Icarus was a boy, he informed me that no one but me was smart enough to know who Icarus was.  So Icarus she is and is on my lap constantly.

My menagerie that is shrinking.  But memories live forever, don't they?

There is more than one way to skin a cat or a dog, for that matter.

Soon after I lost my husband I decided to buy new furniture.  I opted for the microfiber, looks like leather, wears forever, and can hold a dog hair against a jet engine vacuum.  Looked real good and is not foo-foo.  It was very soon that I decided I would need to cover it because the dog spent the day on it and left a pile of hair behind.  So I covered it.  Then I realized that I now had to wash the cover, dry it , and replace it every time I cleaned house.

I bought doggie beds for them.  That did no good.  Scolding, water bottles, and bells were no use what so ever.  I ordered 2 "scat mats" which are plastic runners with electric wires inside that shoots out a charge when the dog hops up there.  The only one that seemed to get any sort of reaction was company who sat on it and me when I forgot and put my hand on it.  You would have thought I would have remembered after the first 85 times.  When I watched dear Elvira walk the full length of the couch, yipping all the way, I decided that was a waste of batteries.

My next approach was the big sheets of bubble wrap with the big bubbles.  Decided on that when I stepped on it once and almost scared myself to death.  That method worked for about a year and I realized I had become known by visitors as "Queen of the red necks."  Frankly, I did not give a damn because the dogs were staying off the couches.  Famous last words.  Dear Daisy learned how to pull the bubble wrap off the couch and she could get white hair the complete length and breadth of the sofa.  According to my calculation and the amount of vacuum cleaner bags being used, that damn dog should be as bald as a billiard ball!

Bad Daisy!

I tried piling boxes on it which worked for a while.  When my patience was completely gone, I vacuumed one last time.  Then I stood it up on the arm and there it sets.  Either way, I can not set on it.  I get quizzical looks when company comes, but I am not a stickler for strange looks.  That happens fairly regular in my world!  

So here we have the couch that I can not set on, but smug in knowing neither can the dogs.  But as always in my world, I do not have the last word nor the last laugh.

This is dear Icarus, the calico cat that always has the last laugh!  Do you recognize where her new bed is located?

As for me, I will be perched on a wooden stool at the kitchen counter.  That is my place, until they change their minds and decide to share that space also!

You can not spinkle showers of happiness on other people without getting a few drops on yourself!

Wouldn't it be great if we could keep the kids little forever?

I guess probably the hardest thing for a mother to do is nothing.  There comes that time in a child's life when Momma can't help.  It is called reality.  They must make their own decisions and follow through.  That is where my son is at this moment.  His doggie has lots of problems that are not going to go away.  So.  The hardest thing in this life is to decide to euthanize a beloved pet.  Our pets never hurt us.  They give unconditional love and they do it every day, all day long.  They may not feel well, but they love us.  I can not remember how many times I walked in the vet's office with a dog, or cat, or bird, and walked out with my arms empty.  It never gets easier.  I always thought some day I would get used to it, but I never have.
I do think that I am a better person because of the animals that have gone through my life.  So tonight while I am sad, I am proud that my son can do what is right and know that he will be a better man.  More understanding because he has loved and lost.
Some one wrote a piece once.  It is called the Rainbow Bridge and it tells it just like it is.

Rainbow Bridge

There is a bridge connecting heaven and earth
It is called Rainbow Bridge because of its many colours

Just this side of the Rainbow Bridge there is a land of meadows,
hills, valleys with lush green grass

When a beloved pet dies, the pet goes to this special place
There is always food and water and warm spring weather

The old and frail are young again
Those who are maimed are made whole again

They play all day with each other
There is only one thing missing

They are not with their special person who loved them on Earth
So each day they run and play until the day comes
when one suddenly stops playing and looks up !

The nose twitches !
The ears are up !
The eyes are staring !
And this one suddenly runs from the group !

You have been seen, and when you and your special friend meet,
you take him or her into your arms and embrace
your face is kissed again and again,
and you look once more into the eyes of your trusting pet

Then you cross the Rainbow Bridge together, never again to be separated

Author Unknown

This has brought me much solace.  Peace Little Oliver.  

So this is a Pheasant Farm!

I think if you click on that you will see the captions and it will get big.  Course I have been wrong before and Google does have a mind of it's own.  That being said, this is a Pheasant Farm along Highway 50 in Western Kansas.  And I want you to know that I took these pictures while driving with the passenger window down.  Course there was no traffic and I had slowed to a crawl.
  Now I am no stranger to things like this, but I thought you might find it interesting.  See way back  before I moved to Colorado the kid's dad bought 10 acres in Deerfield, Kansas.  Now I moved to Colorado in 1977 so we are talking 35 years ago.  He had a vision at that time of becoming a host on a game farm.  I must say he did pretty good at it.  He moved onto the 10 acres and built a "Club House" along with Pheasant Pens.  I do not kow how many birds he had, but I do know how this worked.
  When Pheasant season was upon him, the "hunters"  would come up from Texas and stay in the Club House.  I think he did most of the cooking.  A real "Man Retreat" there!  When it came time for the hunt the allotted number of birds were released and the hunters shot them!  As the birds were cleaned, they began their "celebration".   The Texan's got their game and a great vacation and he made money.  It was a match made in heaven.
  I must interject here. How many of you have ever eaten wild game that was hunted and shot?  We are talking about a bird that while beautiful is about the size of a chicken.  They live in the wild and fly and run so they are very tough.  Might as well throw the wings and legs away.  They are shot with a shotgun.  Now those "BB's" travel into the bird carrying feathers.  So think about that a minute.  I do not know how much time I spent as a young wife spitting feathers at the supper table. But such was the lot of a frontiersman's wife and children.
  After Earl D. passed the kids remained on the land.  Or at least some of them.  The daughters.  They did try to keep the Pheasant business alive but only for a brief time.  The Club House was used for family dinners, but that got to be more work than fun so now it sets idle.  Kind of sad the way time marches on, isn't it?

From daughter Patty for Christmas, or a mindless blog today!

Today should be the day I blog about my second daughter, Patty, if I were on schedule, but I am not!  I need pictures and I am not prone to dig in that closet today!  Well, actually, ever, but that is beside the point.  So today, I will show you one of my Christmas gifts from said daughter and tell you what havoc it has caused in my home!

Do you see that picture?  Do you know what it is?  It is a bird house.  It is a bird house clock.  It has batteries.  It actually works and Patty gave it to me for Christmas.  As with all gifts I receive, I put the batteries in it, and started it up, as you should do with all gifts you receive that require batteries.  That was my first mistake!

I set the hands to 2:47 and then went about my business.  13 minutes later I heard a tweeting sound.  Had I been the only one that heard the sound, life could have been good, but 2 dogs snapped to attention and immediately set to barking.  If they could have found the intruder it might have been a different story, but they could not.  With the sound gone they were soon back at their favorite pastime, which is sleeping.

One hour passed and the tweeting began again.  This time Icarus was in the house and was bent on finding the helpless bird.  As luck would have it she was at her feed bowl which is located on a built in desk in my kitchen.  It is there so the dogs do not eat her food.  Her head popped up and in one quick leap she had the birdhouse clock in her clutches!  In one quick leap I had her in my clutches!  Of course the dogs were immediately on point and barking like mad.  This scenario was repeated every hour on the hour until I took the batteries out of the clock.

So, now here is the dilemma that I face today.   I know that there has to be a way to silence that clock.  Unfortunately, as with most everything I own, the first thing I did was throw away the instructions.  So now I can dig through the trash and try to find that little 4 inch square piece of paper.  I do not like to dig through trash under the best of conditions.  Oh, what I can do is put the batteries back in and put it up on top of my cupboards where there is a place for such stuff but I do not like to do that cause then I have to clean that because it will attract every drop of grease that floats in the air.  Amanda, my little flash fryer of food, adds to that little problem daily!

So, in the meantime, the little clock sets there very quietly, awaiting my decision.  It is a very pretty little clock and the cheeping did not bother me.  Scared hell out of me the first couple times because Icarus has been known to bring in a bird or two and give them flying lessons.   I blogged once about how she undressed that one a feather at a time.

OK.  It is time to go let the ducks and geese out into the pond area.  I have lost one duck so far this year.  Old age is invading my flock. Time marches on and all that.  I see we have another Arctic Front coming.  Wish I had recovered from the last one, before the next one gets here.

Icarus at work!

 This is Icarus!  This is my calico cat that loves me to distraction!  It is about 5:00 AM and we just got up a little bit ago.  See, what you do not know, and can not see because I can not take a picture of us in bed is that I sleep on my side and she sleeps on my shoulder!  At some point I will wake up enough to push her off my arm.  She then puts her nose against my nose and gives me tiny licks. It is at this point I remember where that tongue has been and cover my head up.  She will then content herself with laying with both front paws on my hands and we drift off again.

Now I know you people out there are wise in the ways of the world as well as the workings of the feline creatures we call our friends.  And indeed, they are our friends!  Icarus does not go out and catch mice simply to be catching a mouse.  She knows I am incapable of catching one, so she does it for me. 
She  loves me!  Now I have told you the sleeping arrangements here, so tell me this......what goes on while I am sleeping?  I can only hope she does not think I want dinner when I am laying there with my mouth agape snoring.  That could be a very rude awakening.  And she does not know that I have never eaten a centipede!  I am afraid to tell her for fear she will misinterpret that as meaning I am feeling adventurous and might like to munch on one! 

 Now you see her reading her notebook here.  How she gets in that little hole between the monitor and all my very important notes I wish I knew!  The modem is back there and apparently she knows that I need to leave that plugged in so she leaves it alone.  The cursor catches her attention fairly easily as does the letters marching across the screen.  She puts her nose right on the screen and I can come up with some interesting writing if one finger wanders.  I tell myself she is reading what I write!  I am very glad I kicked in the extra money for the larger monitor so she could see better!

I came home the other night after dark and saw two sets of eyes out by the duck house.  You know how big those eyes look in your headlights!  I thought it was a couple mountain lions, but it turned out Icarus had a friend over to scout out the place.  It was the neighbors calico, so she is keeping good company!  She goes out to the fowl house with me every morning and evening when I do chores.  One morning she thought she might like to sneak up on one of the ducks.  Goosey Gander seen her and came up behind her!  When Icarus spotted him she shot about 8 feet straight up in the air!  Never have a camera when I need it most!

Now I will give you a few facts and then get out of here.  Calico cats are to the best of my knowledge always female.  Cats are very clean animals especially when you take into consideration that they go in their litter box for their toilette, walk across it and then proceed to lick there feet.  Then they want to come and kiss us.  Cats can be devoted to us and still remain completely independent.  Most aloof animals on the face of God's green earth.  While cats and dogs seem to be mortal enemies, mine will all sleep on the same pillow.  Icarus got her bluff in early!

I do know the name Icarus comes from a Greek God or something of the male persuasion and was someone that flew to close to the sun and melted his wings.  She was actually named by a "person of interest" who is no longer in my life, but I left her named Icarus just to remind me of why he is no longer in my life!  So, I am out of here, but on my way out the door, I want to share with you what someone shared with me.....

In the land of the blind, the one eyed man is king!

Just think about that!

The killer cat and the feathers I get to clean up!

See that cat there?  That is Icarus, my calico.  She is peering under the treadmill in hopes that the bird she brought inside might accidentally be under there!  See all those little things on the floor?  Those are feathers the bird neglected to take with it when it escaped the clutches of this evil feline!

More feathers in the hall way!  The bird is probably getting cold and scared long about now!

Here we are in the kitchen/dining room.  By this time I am getting a little tired of taking pictures and am in search of the vacuum cleaner.  I have already taken the dove outside and put it up high.  I know there is virtually no chance of survival due to the cat fever aspect of the ordeal it has just endured, but hope none the less springs eternal in the human breast!

Ok, now the mess is cleaned up and the cat is looking at me funny.  I know that cat's bring us treasures like mice, birds, snakes and centipedes because they love us and they think we are stupid and can not catch our own food, but come on guys!  I let my cat watch me eat and at no point has Icarus ever seen me devour any of that stuff. Now if she could go out and bring me home a side of beef we might be talking here, but she does not.  It is all this stuff that I have to clean up and dispose of properly.  (Yeah, like there is a way to dispose of dead wild life in the kitchen properly!

But as long as I have a doggie door and  a cat, I am sure I will have this little problem from time to time.  I have talked to her and she just flips her tail, looks over her shoulder and walks off with a little swish.  This is the same cat that will wake me up in the middle of the night while perching on my shoulder and giving me tiny little licks on the cheek.  God only knows what she had dropped in my bed, but I do jump up and look, just in case she thinks I need a midnight snack!

It takes special people to love cats and I guess I am one of those people.  She rules the two dogs with a disdainful glance and they just watch her walk away.  So for the next 14-15 years I know I have a companion and I also know I do not have to worry about eating!  Lonely?  The local animal shelter is full of these furry little creatures.  Just call my friends at the Pueblo Animal Shelter and I am sure someone will help you find a special one!

Remember when I raised these baby birds?

I know it is difficult to tell what these are, so I am going to tell you.  This is a picture of 5 baby cockatiels.  This little fellow in the lower left corner is probably the oldest of this clutch.  The little pink one behind the white one is probably 1 day old.  I do not remember what year this was but there were several years that I was in the bird nursing business.  Like everything in my life this started out so innocently.

Kenneth, my late husband had always wanted a parrot.  Well parrots cost a lot of money, so the compromise was made to give him a gray Cockatiel, so that is what he got.  That was one mean bird, so we thought he would be better humored if he had a wife.  So we purchased a White Cockatiel to be his bride.  As luck would have it, this was a match made in heaven.  Or seemed made in heaven until she laid her eggs and decided that was not for her.  So she ripped the eggs out of the nest, but Big Bird put them back.  It was soon clear that Baby was not going to be a good mother so she was removed to another cage and Big Bird hatched the eggs.  He tried to feed them when they hatched, but it was too much for him.  We put Baby back in, and she attacked the babies.  So it was clear what must happen.  I must be the surrogate mother to these little feathered creatures.

This entailed mixing food and feeding them with an eye dropper several times a day for a couple weeks until they could fend for themselves.  All the time Big Bird hovered near and spread his wings for them to sleep under.  Big Bird had a bad wing and could not fly, but he taught the babies to fly,  They were in a big flight cage with a limb in it.  He would line them up on the limb and then push

 the line of babies up the limb and as room ran out the first bird would fall off the limb and flutter.  It was at this point that I learned just how much Mother Nature had instilled in her wildlife.  Big Bird had never laid an egg and he had never seen a baby, but he knew what had to be done and did it.

Meantime down in the cage in the basement, Baby was as happy as she could be.  I would set her on my shoulder while I sewed.  She would rub her head against my neck and chew on my glasses.  No sign of the aggressive bird that tried to kill her babies. 

We hand raised all the babies until they were ready to go to new homes.  We named all the gray ones "Snapper" and all the white ones "Baby".  One "Snapper" went to Alamosa, one to Syracuse, Kansas, and I do not remember where else.  We raised several little batches of baby birds and it always went the same way with Baby.  Well, and with Big Bird and with us.  Baby just never was the mothering type.  Sort of like some women I have met.

When they reached a certain age, birds die and it was that way with our two little  friends.  Baby died first and it was very soon after that Big Bird also died.  I like to think they were flying around the Rainbow Bridge when Kenny walked over in 2003.  I know he would have smiled to see them, cause one thing is for sure, that man loved his animals and they loved him!