Puppy Fix

           It was recliner time when my phone rang. It was my oldest and much-adored sister Patti. It’s really kinda cool to Facetime and see the beautiful face of the person you’re talking to. But if you don’t wanna do Facebook, there’s an app for your phone called Duo. That’s what we use when we talk to Patti ‘cause she doesn’t like Facebook.

          “I don’t trust it,” she told me once.

          Mike and I have our phone service through Consumer Cellular. Two phones with unlimited talk and text, plus three gigs of data is fifty-five a month. I think Mike’s is the main phone on the account and mine is added on. Anyway, there’s a problem whenever Patti calls me. She’ll dial my phone but it rings in on both our phones. I can’t answer it on mine but if I decline the call, it hangs up Mike’s too. So, we end up calling Patti back — on Mike’s phone. For whatever reason, I can’t call out on Duo on my phone either.

          “I need to see more pictures of your puppy,” Patti said.

          I laughed. “I’ve only had her a week!”

          “You were talking about how strong her jaws were?”

“Uh-huh,” I agreed.

“Lee said Heelers can bring down full-grown steers,” Patti said of her handsome cowboy husband. Lee is gone now, walking the high plains of the other side. “They grab ‘em by the snout and hold on. Lee’s seen it.”

I’m hoping this week to give you your puppy fix.

A few days after we got Raini, two things happened and neither one made it into the double blog I did last week. Forgetful? Tired brain? I don’t know. Both those things could be mentioned this week without that preamble and it wouldn’t make a bit of difference.

In my mind’s eye I can still see that sweet little face turned up to the gently falling rain the first time I took her out in it. Her nose twitched a little like she was trying to smell the drops as they fell. I smiled. “It’s a rainy day,” I told her.

Suddenly, Doris Day came to mind and it dawned on me that I could call our pup Raini Dae. Now she has a middle name for when she’s in trouble. Besides, it was a rainy day when we picked her up and the Indians gave their children names of whatever they see first after the birth of a new little one; Running Doe, Soaring Eagle…

And this is Raini Dae with a yogurt-bow over her eyes. I let her lick the yogurt cup.

Yogurt won’t hurt them, however, they can have lactose intolerance and end up with diarrhea. I don’t think I’ll be giving her any more yogurt — or milk for that matter, if you get my drift.

Raini was perfectly content to eat dog food for the first few days we had her. Now she’s gotten a taste of other foods and isn’t nearly as receptive to eating her food. One thing we will never do again is feed our pups while we’re eating. We learned that lesson the hard way with Itsy. She always begged. Ginger didn’t beg but she’d sit beside me as I ate and patiently wait for me to sneak her bits.

 We never feed Bondi while we're eating and she never begs. Hopefully, it’ll work with Raini, too.

“How’s Bondi taking the new pup?” Patti asked.

Some days better than others.

Those two will chase each other around the yard and I’ve seen ‘em playing tug o’ war. Sometimes with toys, sometimes with chew sticks.

          I’ve even seen them play hide ‘n' seek — in my flowers. I wouldn’t care but they were knocking the flowers over, laying on them and chewing them, too. I had to put a wire cage around my Glads again this year.

          It’s interesting to watch Raini with Bondi. I’ve seen her get Bondi into the back section of the yard and keep her there. Raini will lay in the grass between Bondi and the patio and watch her. As soon as Bondi makes a break for the patio, Raini is there ‘herding’ her back to the corner. It’s just amazing how strong the herding instinct is even in a seven-almost-eight-week-old pup.

          I knew from the get-go that Heelers are a higher-energy dog. That just makes me have to go out and walk her and that’s good for me, too.

Not the first time, but one of the first few times I took Raini out on a leash, she rebelled, and almost backed right out of her brand-new harness. Rather than have her escape, I unbuckled her and let her trot along beside me.

          “Peg, weren’t you worried she’d take off on ya?” you ask.

          Yeah. But Mike says she’ll stay right with me. I do get a little nervous when I hear a car coming though. It’s only happened once so far and I just picked her up and held her till it got past.

          Our cats!

          Those cats!

          If it’s not Tiger, it’s Blackie! Following me down the road when I’m trying to walk the dogs! I thought for sure that once I got a little way away from home that Blackie would go back.

          He didn’t.

          The girls and I jogged.

          Blackie trotted along behind us.

          He’ll turn around by the time I get to the Robinsons’ barn, I thought.

          He didn’t.

          I turned around and jogged part way home. He’ll follow, I thought.

          He didn’t.

          “MEOW! MEOW! MEOW!” I hear.

          “BLACKIE! BLACKIE!” I called.

          “Meow,” he answered less frantically.

          He spotted us and came running!

          To the Robinson’s barn and back is enough for Raini right now. After that, I don’t know what’s going to happen. Either I keep going and hope the cats give up and go home, or I get Mike to take me away from the house on the golf cart.

          Once I got all the critters safely back to the yard, Raini chased Blackie to the fence where Blackie laid down and dared Raini to chase hem any farther.

          Cats have claws, as Spitfire has taught Raini. She doesn’t try to boss him around anymore!

          And here’s another picture of Blackie this week.

          It was just about dusk when I let the girls out in the yard.

          “BARK! BARK-BARK! BARK-BARK-BARK!” Bondi said. Translation, “MOM! COME HERE! WHAT IS THAT‽”

          I was on the patio and looked to where she was barking. There was Blackie on the other side of the fence, then I saw Pepé! “Oh honey! You don’t want to mess with that!” I was talking to both Blackie and Bondi but Blackie would have to take care of himself. I snatched up the girls and tossed ‘em back into the house and grabbed my camera. It looks like Pepé is eating something. A dead bird or mouse I’ve tossed, I don’t know, but he didn’t seem especially bothered by Blackie. Just before I left, I saw Pepé turn his backside to Blackie and I thought for sure he was gonna be sprayed, but he wasn’t.

          Mike’s been working hard on our patio enclosure but he took the time out one evening to walk down to the Kipps with us.

          Bondi was on her leash, Raini just trotted along behind.

          The Daisies are blooming.

          “Peg, is that a spider in the other one?” you ask.

          Good eye! I believe it is. 

          On the Kipps’ porch, I see where Miss Rosie hung the crushed-can flower holders I’d made for her. It turned an otherwise blank wall into something more interesting — if you notice them. I didn’t the first time I’d visited after they were hung.

          Miss Rosie gets loves from two puppies now!   

   

          The Mountain Laurel in their yard is blooming.  

    

          And so is her peony.

          I love the peonies and can’t wait until mine gets big enough to bloom.

          I stooped to smell it before I took its picture.

          Right next to it was a tightly packed bud. “There’s a ladybug nymph,” I called up to the Kipps on the porch.

          Lamar came to look. “That’s a ladybug nymph?” he asked.

          “I’m pretty sure, but I’ll check when I get home.”

          I did and it is. I know these guys don’t look much like the adult they’ll become but in the three weeks before he does mature, he’ll eat like four hundred aphids!

          No cats followed us down and no cars passed us on our walk.

          When we got to our driveway, Mike stopped to pull a few weeds. I always keep an eye on Raini and noticed she’d stop to wait for Mike.

          She just patiently waited.

          And when he was done, she trotted home right beside him. 

          The Kipps stopped for a visit one morning on their way home from their walk.

          Raini took more of interest in Tux, or at least in Tux’s leash. The Kipps just let him drag his leash while they visit and I guess the trailing leash was too tempting for Raini to pass up.

          “Look at her!” I exclaimed.

          We all laughed at her antics — and Little Miss Jealous looked too. Bondi jumped from my lap and ran right over.

          I don’t know who did it or how they did it but Bondi ended up with the leash loop looped over her head.

          She stopped to give Tux a little kiss, then Miss Rosie reached down and slipped the loop over her head. 

          Raini has learned something from this because the next time we were out she was grabbing Bondi’s leash right where it attaches to the harness.

          “Raini Dae!” I scold. “STOP! Leave her alone!”

          Does she listen to me?

          NO!

          And when she doesn’t listen and doesn’t stop, I carry her. She wiggles and whines for me to put her down but I won’t until she calms down. Once in a while I carry her more than she walks.

          How can something so cute be filled with so much impishness?

          But make no mistake about it! Raini is smart.

          After we’d gotten her, I was looking up stuff about Heelers online. It said they understand hand signals better than verbal commands. I decided to give it a shot. When I was going out the door to help Mike, I’d hold up my hand, palm facing the pups and say, “Stay.” They seemed to understand and plopped down on their little behinds. After just a few days both Raini and Bondi have learned that when I hold my hand up, they’re to stay and I don’t even need to say the word anymore.

          I am not going to get carried away with this training stuff. I don’t need my pups to do tricks but I do need them to obey basic commands. If the hand signal along with the verbal command helps, then that’s what I’ll do.

          They’ve had lots of practice with stay this week. While we were working on the patio, I let the girls have run of the house. It didn’t start out that way. I know Raini isn’t housebroken and I kenneled her for the first couple of days. It was hard to listen to her cry, but she’d settle down eventually. Every couple of hours, and sometimes more often, I’d have to come in the house for something. A tool for Mike, coffee or a pit stop for me. That would get Raini upset again and that in turn upset Bondi. She wanted no part of a crying baby and didn’t want to be in the house with one either. She kept trying to get out the door no matter how many times I told her to stay.  Eventually I had to employ the old foot method to keep her in as I squeezed through a little crack and shut the door fast behind me.

          When we weren’t working, I noticed that Raini was going out on her own to do her business in the yard. “Cool!” I thought “That was easy.” And decided not to kennel her while we were working the next day. Raini didn’t cry and Bondi didn’t try for the door every time I came in anymore. And Bondi was easy to find when I came in to check on them because she’d be in the recliner, waiting.

          Raini I’d have to go looking for. At first, she’d be in her bed under my desk. A couple of times I couldn’t find her at all but eventually, as I walked the house calling for her, she’d whine. I couldn’t tell where it was coming from. Pantry? Garage? Did I shut her in the bathroom? I opened the door and checked. She wasn’t in there.

“Raini!” I called and could hear a faint whimper. Bedroom? I guessed and headed in there. No Raini.

“Raini!” I called again. This time when the whimper came, I knew she was out the other way. I turned around and there she was in the dining room I’d just walked through at least three times. I’m guessing she was under the table.

I wasn’t finding any messes either and I was so proud of her.

It was a short-lived pride. That night I found poop in the back corner of the exercise room. I’d probably have found it sooner if I was checking corners!

I found poop in the dining room Friday night. Maybe she knows not to pee in the house but pooping is different? I don’t know, but I can’t scold her if I’m not reasonably sure the poop is fresh.

Poor Bondi! Every time I scold Raini for messing in the house, Bondi has flashbacks and runs outside. I’m working on assuring her that she’s a good girl and her name isn’t Raini!

One hot day I got a tub and filled it with water and toys to see what the girls would do. Bondi didn’t want the toys in there and fished them out one by one.

Raini took a different tact. She climbed in and laid down.

          Silly dog!   

      

          I’ve been seeing butterflies. I’ve seen Tiger Swallowtails and Red-spotted Purples but don’t have any decent pictures of them.

This Red-spotted Purple got caught in a corner of our new patio enclosure and was beating himself to death against a window. I took his picture, cupped my hands around him, and set him free.

          I went out alone early one evening looking for butterflies. Just as I head up the hill to the upper barn something dashes into the weeds. I didn’t see it but I could see the weeds shaking as he brushed past them. Just for kicks I decided to see if I could find him. I followed where I’d seen the weeds moving, creeping as quietly as I could, when all of a sudden, a young whistle pig dashes into his hole. I stood there for a little while and he pokes his little head out. Maybe he could smell me, maybe he just sensed me, but he never came the whole way out.

          I know these guys are hated, sometimes fiercely. But as long as they’re not undermining any of our buildings, I say live and let live. Besides, you can get rid of these and others would just move in next year. It’s a never-ending battle.

          Something else equally hated is the Multiflora roses that are now in bloom. The air is filled with their fragrant rose smell. I love it when I catch a whiff of them!

          “What’s the bug on there?” you wanna know.

          That is a baby katydid.

          The pretty, intricate flowers of the clover. 

          And the dreaded dandelion has a pretty flower if you ever stop to really look at it.

          A Spittlebug nest. The foam keeps them from drying out as well as hiding them from things that would eat them. 

          I have no idea what the thing is hanging by a thread under the leaf. An egg?

          I’ve made you wait a long time to see the new patio enclosure, so let’s get started on that story.

          We made the trip to a discount store in New York to buy a door. Most of the trip was on roads I’ve taken pictures on many times before, but a small part was on a new road. I only have this one barn to show you.

          The door fit in the back of the Explorer and we didn’t have to leave the gate open. Yay! I hate driving around with the back gate open.

          Coming in our road, there’s a doe with what looks like a brand-spankin’ new fawn in the middle of the road.

          “Get closer,” I said.

          “She’ll run,” Mike said but crept slowly forward as I snapped pictures.

          “Get closer, would ya!” I needed to be closer for a better shot.

          Mike sighed and gave it a little more gas.

          The doe moved to the side of the road, the baby followed.

          Just about the time we draw abreast of them the baby drops.

          “It’s a good thing you didn’t listen to me,” I told Mike. “Or the baby might’ve dropped in the middle of the road instead of on the edge.”

          He doesn’t look very old.

          We put the door in when we got home and Mike’s making a little awning to shed the rain water.

          This is the garage side as you’re looking at our place. There’s a window, window, door, window, big open spot, and another window.

          “What’s the open spot for?” you ask.

          That, my dears, is for a garage door. We’ve got our turtles, a carousel, and a picnic table that would never fit out through the walk-in door. Not only that, but Mike also parks his golf cart on the patio.

          We’ve got eighteen windows and a full glass door. I don’t know when they’ll come to install the little garage door but it’s on order. And we’re waiting on siding, too.

          Saturday morning we went out for breakfast. It was a little foggy. 

          Then we went to the recycling center. While waiting our turn in line this guy was showing off these three-string guitars he makes from cigar boxes. “I usually make them acoustic,” he said. This one was electric.

          “Play something for us,” a lady said.

          “I don’t play,” he responded.

          We took the pups with us and Raini wouldn’t settle down until Mike held her.

          “I think she went to sleep,” he said.

          Let’s end with another Raini Dae story.

          The girls sleep in the bed with us, even though they say you shouldn’t let them. Bondi still goes down under the covers but Raini doesn’t. She’ll either lay on top of the covers beside one of us or she’ll crawl up between our pillows.

          I pulled my top pillow back to get this shot for you.

          When we first got her I would set an alarm to take her out a couple of times in the night. I’ve shut them both off. I don’t need no stinkin’ alarm. Raini has the cutest way of waking you up.

          “How’s that?” I know you wanna know.

          She jumps on your face and nibbles your nose. Not all the time, but she did one morning this week and in my effort to stop her, I pushed her just right and her little tooth hooked the skin on the side of my nose and made me bleed.  

        How can something so cute be so naughty‽

          Let’s call this one done!

Time To Rest

 

It seems like if I get up and walk away from my writing for a day, give my mind time to rest, I think of things I wish I’d’ve added to the story.

“Like what?” you ask.

One thing I should’ve told you was what was on the front of one of those old buildings. There were two pictures of a little old house, only it wasn’t a house. It had a sign on the front that says 1858 Arnold School House.

I thought you’d be able to see it, and I didn’t check before I posted it, but I don’t think you can.

Another one I thought you’d be able to read was the date on the front of this old log house. It says it was built in 1740.

Something else that was in the timeline of the story I told you last time and totally forgot about until after I posted it was another name I thought of for Raini. Yes, the votes are in for the spelling of her name. It was a tie so I get to break it. Dropping the e keeps it consistent with how I spell Bondi.

We were at a gas stop coming home, and before we’d decided firmly and definitely on Raini, I was walking the girls when a name popped into my head. Libby, short for Liberty. I liked the name and didn’t know where it came from, but I couldn’t justify naming her that. Nonetheless, I asked Mike when I got back in the car.

“How about Libby?” No response. Then it dawned on me. “The Kipps had a dog named Libby!”

That night, after we crawled in bed at eight-thirty because someone was so tired, I opened the book I’m reading on my Fire tablet. Right there, big as day, was one of character’s names. Libby. I picked up the story where I’d left off and another name jumps out at me. Reina. Rein is pronounced the same as rain but means something different and in my head I was saying it as Rein-a. Right or wrong, I don’t care.

“What was the book?” you ask.

The Atlas Six. I wouldn’t waste my time on it if I were you but you can do what you want.

A coincidence? Definitely weird.

I also told you about the Yorkie scam. I know that at least three of us reported the account to Facebook. I got a message back from them.

“We didn’t remove the account because it poses no danger to other people or is harmful to the community,” Facebook said.

So much for that.

And lastly, I should’ve told you that Brad said these are mini-Heelers. I didn’t know there was such a thing. Raini’ll probably top out around twenty — twenty-five pounds. Way bigger than Bondi but I’m okay with whatever size she gets to be.

I’ll tell you what! This little girl is so smart! She isn’t really housebroken yet but in the few days we’ve had her, I’ve seen her leave the recliner, go out in the kitchen, get a drink, and go right out the pet door and pee in the grass.

Monday morning, when the door wasn’t open, she sat down in front of it and whined. I opened the door and she went out and did her business. That’s fabulous, right? Then she turned around and pooped on the floor. LOL.

The pet door is in the screen. When I have the door shut, I prop the screen open. That way I only have one door to open when I go out.

Even in June in these mountains, the mornings are chilly. I let the girls out to do their business and didn’t answer their calls to come back in right away. When I did go to let them in, I saw Raini just as she turned to try the pet flap. I had to laugh.

One more thing about Raini then we’ll move on.

We were in bed and Raini was working a chew stick. She choked and coughed up a piece, not once but twice. I thought I’d take it away from her but when I tried. I couldn’t. She had her jaws clamped firmly shut.

“Okay, then,” I told her. “You’re on your own.”

It happened again another time where she had something I didn’t want her to have. There was no getting her jaws open. Whatever she had, she was keeping! And she swallowed it.

Getting a new pup was definitely the highlight of my week but far from the only thing that happened.

Mike and I started closing the front patio in.

“If I get three windows set today,” he said, “I’ll be happy.”

Things were going well and we set five windows that first day. It took a toll on Mike though; he was definitely whooped.

We were sitting there taking a break when a Chickadee flew right in and landed beside us. He hopped around a little then took off.

By Wednesday we had the entire front wall done. This is gonna help so much next winter.

Mike has a general idea of how he wants things and other than what’s in his head, there aren’t any plans involved. That means that once in a while our well-deserved nickname comes into play.

“What’s your nickname?” you wanna know.

The Do-it-again Lubys!

“I forgot to add for this,” Mike would say. Luckily, we’re using screws for the most part but it’s still a pain to do things twice and sometimes three times!

Another big aggravation I have with Mike is he measures everything so tight. That means there’s no wiggle room. All-in-all Mike’s a good carpenter and builds way above standards.

Friday we started on one of the side walls and got two windows framed and set.

“Did you make anything this week, Peg?” you ask.

I did! I made three more tin can flowers. Three doesn’t sound like much but you have to consider that they were three pieces each. My drying rack can hold a few more than nine but not many.

I put a white star on two pictures I want to call your attention to.

The center piece on these two are made from lids instead of cans. Something new I was playing around with.

I also made them two-tone. Would you believe the center color is the same as the edge highlights? I guess painting overtop of yellow makes it look like a different color.

And I learned something this week.

          When I add POP (plaster of Paris) to my book boxes, the lids tend to warp a little. I can get them mostly flattened back out using weights but I thought, why not prevent it in the first place.

There’s a product called Gesso. Artists use it to prime canvas. Without it the paint would sink into the fibers of the canvas. Most canvas these days come pre-Gessoed but it still has its uses. It provides some ‘tooth’ that allows paint to stick to surfaces. And that’s why I bought it. If I add elements to my book boxes like metal or plastic, I want to be able to paint them. Gesso lets me do that. I thought Gesso may also act as a sealer keeping some of the moisture from my POP out of the cardboard.

Things were going great. I made the box, covered it with paper and glue like I always do, and at this point I added Gesso. Once it dried, I put on my POP. It still warped slightly and I put it under a weight. When I pulled it out a couple of days later, when I was ready to work on it again, some of my POP fell off. I didn’t really think too much of it even though that’s never happened to me before. I started sanding and great hunks of POP started falling off! What a mess it made! Obviously, POP doesn’t stick to Gesso.

“What’d you do then, Peg?” you ask.

I spent the next hour knocking POP off my box, that’s what.

“What are you gonna do now?” you wanna know.

At this point I’m going to continue my plans to decorate it. It just won’t have the same texture as my other books but I think it’ll be fine. If not, he can join all the other misfits on my shelf.

While sitting on my patio I try to swat down the carpenter bees. This big bad boy came buzzing overhead and became collateral damage. I thought he was a carpenter bee when I swatted him out of the air. I felt bad about it when I saw he wasn’t a carpenter. He’s a Giant Hornet.

He lay there at my feet, gasping.

“Put him out of his misery,” I heard Momma in my head. I hit him again, picked him up and threw him into the grass.

It was only then that I thought about getting a picture for you. I got my camera and went looking for him. He wasn’t hard to find — and he was still alive!

“Hit him again!” you say.

I couldn’t. “Live or die on your own,” I told him. Maybe he’ll recover, I thought. I should’ve just stepped on him to begin with but I hate how they crunch under your shoe.

My patio light attracts a lot of moths and bugs if I leave it on for the cats to come in at night. I found this guy on the screen and thought he was interesting looking so I found a container and put him in.

The next day I took his picture. He’s a Stonefly.

“Peg, tell us about Stoneflies,” you say.

Okay, I will!

The common name “stonefly” is a reference to the kinds of streams in which the larvae of many species are found.

There are more than 3,500 species of stoneflies worldwide and 600 in North America. They’re widespread, found on every continent except Antarctica.

The stonefly life cycle involves an incomplete metamorphosis, which means that there is no pupal stage and the nymphs look much like the adults. Some species spend three years in the larval stage and molt more than 20 times before becoming an adult.

They don’t hatch on the water’s surface, like most species of mayflies and caddisflies. Since stonefly larvae are crawlers—and relatively poor swimmers—they stay close to the bottom,

Nymphs get oxygen from the water by filamentous gills and are intolerant of pollution. In fact, the presence of a healthy stonefly population is an indicator of good water quality. Ironic considering stoneflies are closely related to cockroaches, which are perceived as evidence of filth.

When it’s time to hatch into winged adults, most stoneflies migrate to the bank and climb out of the water before transforming. Most of the time adults are available to trout only when they are blown onto the water — which is fairly often, given their poor flying skills — and during egg-laying.

I bet you didn’t know they were so fascinating, did you?

Once I took pictures, I tossed him into the grass. Bondi found him and brought him back to the rug. I don’t know what happened to him after that. 

Sitting on the patio, working on my crafts, I listen to the music of nature. Bird calls are sorta like white noise; there’s so much of it. I soon became aware of the squawking and warning calls of a robin family that has a nest under the old debarking chute. I can see the interloper on the left of the picture but don’t know what he is or what he’s trying to do. Steal an egg? Blue Jays will do that because they need extra calcium during nesting season. Lay an extra egg in the robin nest? Some birds do that. They’ll knock one from the nest and lay hers in its place. Lazy mama.

I took quite a few pictures while Bondi laid nearby watching the drama unfold.

Blackie heard the raucous chatter and came to investigate, only he wasn’t content to watch from the ground.

He could probably climb the whole way up to the nest if he was so inclined, but he didn’t. The intruder bird left and the robin pair continued to yell at Blackie until he turned around and left.

>>>*<<<

          Blackberry flowers.

These are the tiny little flowers of the Clevers or another name is Bedstraw. 

And I’m pretty sure you recognize the spent head of a dandelion. The reason I took the picture was to tell you something I recently saw on the internet.

Did you know you can take one of these and totally and carefully submerge it in a glass of water? All the little hairs, or whatever they are, displace the water and when you pull it out, it’s dry! I haven’t tried it myself but thought it was something interesting to try with the kids or grandkids.

I took the girls down to the pond, off-leash. Bondi’s so funny. She goes through the tall grass like she’s got springs on her feet. 

She pops up over the grass, disappears, and pops back up again to sail over the grass.

The girls resting in my shadow as I took pictures.

Spatterdock, my pond lilies.

Craneflies making baby craneflies.

A milkweed at the edge of the pond. I love that Mike dug around it.

The girls raced to catch up to me. 

And raced right past me. They got to the RV hookup and waited for me.

“Good girls!” I cooed. “Now let’s go home.”

Off they went.

They listened really well this day but they don’t always. Mike gets so frustrated when they don’t obey.

“It’s not automatic,” I try tell him. “You have to train them.” Mike hasn’t the patience for it.

Orange and yellow Hawkweed, also called Devil’s Paintbrush.

My Chinese Lanterns are blooming. 

And this one is Fleabane. 

And the Forget-me-nots are blooming!

I came in the house to see one of the boys left me a present. At first, I thought it was a Starling but the more I looked at it the more I thought it wasn’t.

I got my bird book out and looked up Starling. I was right. The Starling doesn’t have the white stripe over its eye. On the very same page and right under the Starling was the Red-winged Blackbird. And the female of that species looks exactly like this.

I tossed her in the weeds.

The next day I found a dead female Blackbird on my patio. Either someone found the one I tossed and brought her in for a patio lunch, or they got another one.

Oh the joys of country life with those wild and vicious predators, the common housecat.

On Friday, just the day after we got Raini, I had to mow the dog run. Bondi did what she always does, she got ahead of me, barked, and challenged the mower.

I couldn’t see Raini but figured she must be on the patio. Wrong! She ran in the house and found Mike. He came out carrying her to show me. I just happened to have my camera slung around my neck so I took their picture.

 I got right down on the freshly mown grass to take pictures of the girls playing.

You know the old saying about if you lay down with dogs, you get up with fleas?

Will guess what happens if you lay down in the grass to take pictures of dogs? You get up with ticks!

I felt a tickle in my arm pit and found this guy. I pulled slowly and gently and it hurt! That little blood sucker’s got a piece of my flesh in his jaws! I showed him! I put him on the butcher block and gave him a taste of my Bic. My arm pit hurt for a long time after and it hurts all over again just looking at the picture! 

Let’s call this one done!