tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19775193636106013162024-03-13T06:15:35.349-04:00A Scratch Behind the Ears (and other nice things)Brendahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08734831781770841734noreply@blogger.comBlogger258125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1977519363610601316.post-86062849406054795542019-01-14T23:04:00.000-05:002019-01-14T23:04:56.013-05:00Getting Ready!Today has been a whirlwind of re-homing plants, gathering bowls, filling litter boxes, and trying to scrutinize the sunroom from the perspective of three rambunctious five-month old kittens. They'll be living in the sunroom for at least the first week, while they get acclimated to their new surroundings.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Before</td></tr>
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What in this room could be chewed, scratched, tasted, or played with? Pretty much everything. So it's been a busy day. I decided that yes, they probably would try to climb the plant stands, possibly getting their little legs stuck in the narrow openings in the process. After envisioning the emergency trip to the vet, I carefully covered each shelf with a combination of vinyl placemats and spare towels. Aesthetics has been put aside in favor of practicality and safety.<br />
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And the cat tree from Chewy.com arrived today! Unfortunately, it arrived in many pieces. Guess we missed that line "some assembly required."<br />
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But now it is almost 11 pm, and everything - *I think* - is ready. The cat tree is put together (it's amazing!), everything scratch-able is covered (I knew there was a reason I kept all those old dog towels and blankets), and even their three little bowls are ready for them...<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">So cute! :)</td></tr>
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Yes, I know that their water bowl says "good dog." But it's a great ceramic bowl, it's the one that Lady, Lucky, Katie, and Lucy used to share. Seemed a shame to buy a new one, when this one is perfectly good. Fortunately, we also had a placemat tucked away with the old pet supplies that helps to clarify things.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">After</td></tr>
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I even found Lucy's Christmas present from last year in a plastic bin in the garage. She hated it, despite my repeated efforts to show her how much fun it was. The lighted ball freaked her out. I hope the kittens like it!<br />
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Tomorrow is the big day. So exciting! I hope I can sleep tonight!<br />
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<br />Brendahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08734831781770841734noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1977519363610601316.post-59340155057459628462019-01-13T22:53:00.000-05:002019-01-14T12:12:30.512-05:00And Suddenly, It's 5 Years LaterI can't believe it's been almost five years<b> </b>since I've posted to A<i> Scratch Behind the Ears</i>. And probably almost that long since I've gotten on here and read posts from the blogs I follow! I got burned out, and I think the aging of my four-legged kids dampened my enthusiasm for blogging. They were all getting older, developing the issues and challenges that face all of us if we live long enough.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Love these sweet, white-haired, wise old faces!</td></tr>
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And one by one I began losing them. Frankly, that part of being a pet parent sucks. Managing arthritis and chronic age-related medical conditions just didn't provide a whole lot of inspiration for blog posts. So gradually I stopped posting as frequently. Then, just once every few months. And eventually, not at all. I never wrote a "Goodbye" post though, because I always figured I'd get back to it.<br />
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Lady, Lucky, Katie, and Lucy are all gone now, leaving in their wake the lasting imprint of love and lives well lived. Each of them was fortunate to live good, long pampered lives, and each passed away from issues that arose from old age. Lucy the Bowtie Wonder Kitty outlived them all! She was an eight pound force of nature who tapped into every one of her "9 lives" during her nineteen years on this earth.<br />
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She left us in May of 2018, and that was a hard goodbye. Since that time, the house has been quiet. Some people, upon losing a pet, will immediately seek out a new furry family member to fill the hole left behind. I am not one of those people.<br />
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The house has been quiet, and almost freakishly clean. No dog or cat hair, no nose prints, no muddy paw prints anywhere. For the first time in years, there's been no need to keep an eye on the clock when we're out, because no one at home is waiting on dinner, or companionship. And that's been okay. Nice actually. Until lately.<br />
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Something happened over Christmas. I'm not sure exactly when or how it started. But I can say, it started innocently enough. Awww-ing over a niece's new kitten (Spencer, so cute!). Another family member's new Australian Shepherd rescue with the adorable name ("Callie O'Malley!"). Then, there was one of those quizzes. Where you fill out the traits that matter most to you, and the website generates your perfect breed of dog or cat. No harm in doing that! It's just for fun.<br />
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Next thing I know, it's New Year's Day, and we're driving three hours to meet a trio of American Bobtail kittens! Crazy, right? I've never even heard of the breed "American Bobtail." But American and Japanese Bobtails, and Manx, kept coming up as a good match for all the boxes I checked on that quiz - "friendly, intelligent, affectionate, dog-like." Some of the stories talked about these cats accompanying long haul truckers in their cabs, and enjoying traveling cross-county in RVs. :-) And well, just look at these faces...<br />
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Guess who's coming to their new home on Tuesday??? :-D Stay tuned...<br />
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<br />Brendahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08734831781770841734noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1977519363610601316.post-48888891093659267542019-01-13T20:41:00.001-05:002019-01-13T22:59:59.094-05:00"Me and My Shadow"<i><span style="color: #0b5394;">(Upon returning from an almost five year hiatus, I discovered this post still sitting as a draft in my edit window. It was apparently one I started but never finished. The story seems complete though, so I guess I'd intended to add pics and then publish. When I read it today, it made me smile, and brought back fond memories of these two sweet and quirky girls. Decided to go ahead and hit "publish." :-)</span></i><br />
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Katie has itchy paws, and this makes Lady anxious. That's my fault. It wasn't intentional, but I created a Licking Phobia in Lady. This is how it happened...<br />
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A year or so ago, Katie was having trouble with allergies, and when she was itchy she would lick, lick, lick. Benadryl helped, and eventually the season changed and her allergies lessened. But when she was licking, geesh, it would drive me crazy. I'd try not to say anything...telling myself, she's itchy, and the only way she has to scratch the itch is to lick.<br />
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But inevitably, it'd get to the point where I couldn't stand it. I'd say "Katie! No lick!" I'd have to say this loud, because Katie can't hear. More often than not, she still wouldn't hear me. So from my desk I'd crumple up a piece of paper and toss it at her to get her attention. Or, I'd walk over and rub her back, do something to distract her.<br />
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Lady came to associate Katie's licking with my reaction. I know, now you're thinking that I was yelling hysterically or throwing magazines at her or something. Not true! Most of the time I would just get up from my chair, go over and rub her back and say "Katieeeee...you're driving me crazy sweetie."<br />
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Nonetheless, Lady began to associate Katie's licking with my unease, which then became her unease. When Katie began licking her paws, Lady would jump up and leave the area. It's like she didn't want to be in the vicinity of "wrongdoing."<br />
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But this quirky situation has become even more amusing this year. Katie is now completely deaf, and has adopted Lady as her Hearing Ear Dog. She keeps one eye on Lady, and takes her cues about what's going on in the environment from how Lady reacts. For instance, if Lady hears the food bowls clink, she knows it's time for dinner and jumps up from her bed and hurries to the kitchen. Katie doesn't know what has happened, but she jumps up and follows Lady to the kitchen.<br />
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Needless to say, this makes Lady's attempts to get away from Katie's licking "challenging.". Katie licks, Lady jumps up to get away. Katie jumps up and follows, close on Lady's heels. I wish I could take a photo of this, so that you could see the look on Lady's face as the licking Katie shadows her around the house. I've tried to reassure Lady that it's okay when Katie starts licking, and I pet them both, but it doesn't seem to help her unease.<br />
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Poor Lady. Funny dogs.Brendahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08734831781770841734noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1977519363610601316.post-48130861670786377472014-04-01T11:26:00.000-04:002019-01-13T23:03:10.912-05:00To Eat, Or Not To Eat...Anyone with a dog knows that food dropped onto the floor doesn't last long. If it weren't for dog hair, we probably wouldn't need a vaccum. However, the enthusiasm with which a dropped food item is greeted does depend to an extent upon the breed. Katie, who is a Lab/Border Collie mix, consumes steak leavings and celery leaves with equal fervor. German Shepherds tend to be more discerning.<br />
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While enjoying a bowl of shredded wheat and blueberries at my desk recently, I dropped a blueberry. Lady, in close proximity to the wayward blueberry, realized right away that she had dibs because Katie was asleep and unaware. This was an exciting moment.<br />
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Until Lady remembered: she doesn't like blueberries. Nevertheless, she felt obligated to eat it before Katie woke up. I knew this was going to be entertaining, so was glad to have my iPhone handy. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gaaaah!</td></tr>
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With the failed taste test, Lady found herself in a serious dilemma. The blueberry clearly tasted hideous. But would it be better to eat a hideous blue fruit, now slimy and squished, than to let Katie get it? Lady's forehead crinkled with the effort of trying to work this out. </div>
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She decided to rest for a moment and think about it.</div>
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After some brief silent reflection, Lady raised herself and again advanced on the blueberry, new doggie determination in evidence. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I can do this! I can eat this blueberry!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bleccch... No!! I can't! I just can't do it!! </td></tr>
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All of this angst and writhing about on the floor inevitably woke Katie, and she raised her head in curiosity. Despite being extremely hearing (and I suspect sight) challenged in her old age, she detected a situation worthy of further investigation.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hey, what's this?!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mmmm...good!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Did you see that? Katie ate my blueberry. It was mine!</td></tr>
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Brendahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08734831781770841734noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1977519363610601316.post-612755804419377192014-03-15T14:31:00.000-04:002014-03-16T12:42:21.735-04:00Lunchtime Bear Drama<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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The bears are awake, and hungry! We had some major bear drama this week with the first bear sighting of the spring. It had been a routine morning in my home office - the usual series of phone calls, training proposals, and WebEx meetings. Shortly after noon I went upstairs to make a sandwich for lunch, Lady accompanying me as she always does. When we returned, I was surprised to see a large bear walking past the window next to my desk. Somehow - miraculously - Lady did not see or hear it. She returned to her spot by the futon and lay down next to Katie, and I was able to discreetly move toward the window and take some great pics as Mr. Bear checked out the area in back where I've been feeding the birds all winter. </div>
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At one point he seemed startled by the moon birdhouse. I watched as he huffed at it, then took a cautious sniff, before proceeding to snack on the seed atop the overturned planter.<br />
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We haven't had a bear come through here since last fall, presumably due to the colder than average winter. Bears around here don't go into true hibernation the way they do up north, but sightings are less frequent, and I'd been counting my bear-free blessings. Recently however, there have been stories of bears out and about on the other side of the neighborhood, so I knew it was just a matter of time. The warm weather draws them out and they start to roam. Unfortunately for me, this also means it's time to take the bird feeders down. :(</div>
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Black bears are beautiful, and I'd probably enjoy seeing them a great deal if they weren't such a nuisance to my bird watching. But, it's hard to fault any creature for taking advantage of an easy snack. This particular bear watching episode was quite entertaining until...</div>
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No Mr. Bear, you are <i>not</i> invited to the 1 pm WebEx meeting! Go away! Shoo! I waved my hands ineffectually, not wanting to make noise and wake up Lady. I couldn't figure out why he was looking in the window. Then I realized he wasn't interested in me, he was interested in the feeder hanging on the hook above. </div>
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It was at about this time that Lady realized we were under siege. In 1/1000th of a second she went from peacefully asleep on the floor to full attack mode. It was something to see, my sweet doe-eyed Lady transformed in an instant to a crazed, ferocious junkyard German Shepherd, lunging and frothing, her deafening barks echoing off the walls. The bear backed away briefly, standing on its back legs to its full height to assess the threat. For an endless moment we stared at each other through the window, bear and woman with crazed dog. </div>
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Apparently deciding us to be harmless in spite of the noise, the bear resumed its efforts to get the feeder. When the bear put both paws on the window and the frame began to creak, I decided it was time to leave. </div>
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I was holding onto Lady's collar, but wrangling 85 pounds of extremely determined German Shepherd is easier said than done. She was in such a frenzy, she hit her nose on the window and gave herself a nosebleed. Bouncing and lunging in spite of my efforts to hold her, she managed to fling blood all over me and my office before I finally managed to haul her out into the hall. Katie, bless her heart, is as deaf as a post, and had just raised her head with a quizzical look on her face - "Huh? Is something going on?" - when I slammed my office door shut. Sorry Katie. </div>
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I grabbed a towel from the bathroom and pressed it against Lady's nose, as she continued to bark and try to writhe free, the whites of her eyes giving her a crazed, insane look in the dim hallway. Clearly she thought this was a life and death situation, and it was her job to protect us all. After a few more seconds of attending to Lady's nose and talking to her in as soothing tones as one can muster when a bear is about to come through your window, I ran upstairs and grabbed a pan from the kitchen. People can say all they want about bear spray and such, but in my experience, a pot with a lid is the best defense against a bear. Out on the back deck, I clanged lid and pot together repeatedly, making a huge ruckus. </div>
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The poor bear ran away so fast, he fell halfway down the slope behind the house in his haste to get away. I was relieved to see him get up and continue running, apparently none the worse for the tumble. I didn't want him in my office, but didn't want him hurt either! </div>
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I went back inside and checked Lady. I didn't have any tricks up my sleeve for handling "dog nosebleeds," so was immensely relieved to discover that the bleeding had stopped on its own. Next I returned to my office...oh my... </div>
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There was blood on the windowsill, splattered on the iPod dock, the floor, dripping down the windows. It looked like the shower scene from Psycho. </div>
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In the middle of this macabre scene was Katie, standing in the center of the room, tail wagging uncertainly. I laughed in spite of myself. Sweet little old dog. She knew something noteworthy had occurred, but wasn't quite sure what. Lady came in and sniffed her all over, making sure she was okay. After giving both of them reassuring pats, I went off in search of cleaning supplies.<br />
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The most amusing part of the whole experience came after I returned to work. Just before lunch I had been awaiting an important application from an employee trying to snag a last minute opening in a class. As I typed out the email one and a half hours later, I mentally searched for a way to explain my sudden disappearance and the delayed paperwork. Finally I settled on:<br />
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<i>"I apologize for the delay, something unexpected came up." </i><br />
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If they only knew.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqu5r_bjwhhYRMbuKuklpqdn93ApnmzwvSixJc1kWA9R9z5ltsD9zCAQi1a8iFaPsIOiHCHECsXi_KlcrzFpFwlciw4cZ6sZBijVIB7_8WMpOUeHJVQUBBjgyaXpLxJd_bj5XlxZZhoV8/s1600/IMG_3041_edited-yikesweffect.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqu5r_bjwhhYRMbuKuklpqdn93ApnmzwvSixJc1kWA9R9z5ltsD9zCAQi1a8iFaPsIOiHCHECsXi_KlcrzFpFwlciw4cZ6sZBijVIB7_8WMpOUeHJVQUBBjgyaXpLxJd_bj5XlxZZhoV8/s1600/IMG_3041_edited-yikesweffect.jpg" height="552" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My, what big claws you have!! </td></tr>
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Brendahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08734831781770841734noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1977519363610601316.post-35263827967740742362014-02-24T21:55:00.000-05:002014-03-07T21:56:26.732-05:00The Promise of February<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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There's no denying it - spring is on the way. I saw it this week when the first crocus peeked out at me in front of an old rock wall, and I felt it last week warming my shoulders as I shoveled a foot of snow off my driveway. In the mountains, February is the month when it can be 15 degrees one week, and 65 the next. But no matter the temp outside, there's an unmistakable shift in the air. It portends weekends just around the corner spent outdoors, tidying up garden beds that have been asleep all winter, turning over fresh earth, the scent of rosemary and lemon balm plants on my fingers.<br />
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The light in February is different. I am more keenly aware of sunlight - the length of it, pattern of it, the contrast of light vs. dark - this month than in any other month of the year. The return of longer days happens this time every year, but somehow still manages to feel surprising, miraculous.<br />
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No longer am I racing nightfall on my afternoon walks. Instead, I find myself double checking the time on my phone. Not until sometime in March do I seem able to accept that daylight is possible after 6 pm. Last week, the first thunderstorms rolled through the mountains. The heavy clouds threatened us as we walked around Lake Tomahawk, but didn't hit until later that night. Lady woke me at 2 am to let me know.<br />
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The birds sing of February's promise every morning outside my window. They chatter away at the lake, and hop a little more brightly around the feeders in the yard. I find myself scrutinizing the goldfinches. Are they just a bit more yellow this week than last? Yes, I think they are! And I am convinced that this heron we passed on our walk this evening was smiling.<br />
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February gives us all a reason to smile with its promise of spring. The only one who isn't paying attention is Lucy, who has continued to busy herself this week wedging herself into places where she doesn't fit and isn't welcome.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">If you can slink into the narrow place between body and laptop, it is then possible to gradually <br />
expand your body to normal size, gradually moving the pesky laptop away and toward the knees. </td></tr>
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<br />Brendahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08734831781770841734noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1977519363610601316.post-86630576780115156052014-02-17T20:33:00.000-05:002014-02-17T23:11:09.814-05:00The Art of Persistence<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Lucy wants on my lap. I've told her no, but the word is fairly irrelevant. "No!" applies to other creatures and circumstances. Dogs, for instance. However, I am reading, and clearly there is no room for both a cat and a book on my lap. I explain this. She pretends not to hear me, but she hears, and understands the message. The change in facial expression gives her away, an ever so slight narrowing of the eyes. Mild displeasure at being thwarted.<br />
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Why is it that a lap containing a book or newspaper is such a cat magnet? It's amusing to watch her move in. Lucy seems to believe that if a cat body part moves slowly enough, humans cannot see it. Generally speaking, this is true. I can't tell you how many times I've shooed the cat away, become absorbed in what I'm reading, only to look down a few minutes later and notice that she's sleeping on my lap. How did she get there? I have no recollection. It probably helps that she's always been a petite little cat, and in her old age tips the scale at just over 6 1/2 pounds. Even when she jumps up onto my lap from the floor, it's hardly noticeable.<br />
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But today she is employing major stealth tactics. After standing completely immobile for some minutes, slowly, ever so slowly a paw moves forward. Weight shift to that paw. Then, the other paw creeps forward, followed by the head...slow motion progress toward the desired destination.<br />
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<i>"The trick is to be persistent, and to shrink your body into the space under the book ever so slowly, so the human doesn't notice. Eventually, because you are so cute, and so persistent, the human will give up and put the book away, devoting all attention to you. And then things will be as they should be."</i></blockquote>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Works every time!</td></tr>
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Brendahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08734831781770841734noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1977519363610601316.post-23768641458433025392014-02-03T21:36:00.000-05:002014-02-10T21:10:45.800-05:00Midwinter Musings<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaHqz56rIKw-6PWfnsAS_qDEfNCKpz59p6l9mKZm9c4JJ4uyZvWOaufWQoaKHKB-16ZKEhsiSAsBdP8bqWSiBW2N6FrbC1NYr8Qr6BxJ9NTV8shuZzjQfHU6Iw-YwR6Sixvre5xLBHnFQ/s1600/groundhog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaHqz56rIKw-6PWfnsAS_qDEfNCKpz59p6l9mKZm9c4JJ4uyZvWOaufWQoaKHKB-16ZKEhsiSAsBdP8bqWSiBW2N6FrbC1NYr8Qr6BxJ9NTV8shuZzjQfHU6Iw-YwR6Sixvre5xLBHnFQ/s1600/groundhog.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a>Well, here we are at the halfway point of winter (dare I say the 50 yard line?), and in Western North Carolina, Nibbles the Groundhog has declared six more weeks of winter. Groundhog Day...what a quirky tradition! I'm thinking the German settlers of Pennsylvania must have been really bored that February day in 1887 when they came up with this one - "Hey, lets hoist a large rodent aloft and look for his shadow!"<br />
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Quirky traditions notwithstanding, I'm rather fond of February. The days are getting longer, the sun seems brighter, and by the end of the month we'll be seeing the first crocus, perhaps a daffodil or two. My favorite midwinter verse doesn't fit very well here in the Southeast, but it's a good excuse to share a few more of the photos I took recently in Duluth, Minnesota.</div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In the bleak midwinter, frosty wind made moan,</span><br />
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">snow had fallen, snow on snow, snow on snow,</span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">in the bleak midwinter, long ago.</span></div>
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This familiar carol began as a poem way back in 1872, a few years before those German settlers in Pennsylvania opted for the groundhog forecasting method. Written by <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Christina_Rossetti" target="_blank">Christina Rossetti </a>(1830-1894), it was eventually set to music by Gustav Holst in 1906. I've always thought the words capture so beautifully that part of winter up north that seems unrelenting, the weeks when it seems as if the world has frozen beyond its ability to thaw. </div>
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I wonder what the 42-year-old Christina was feeling and thinking as she penned these words. I imagine her sitting at an old wooden desk with an oil lamp while the wind howled outside her window. Did she feel as bleak inside as the world looked outside? I don't think so. I like to believe that she was a peaceful and content observer of the season.<br />
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Although I am happy for the lengthening days and the prospect of crocus, midwinter in the colder climes brings treasure in abundance for those who pay attention. One gift of winter is its ability to make the color red so very beautiful. </div>
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Don't you think?</div>
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Brendahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08734831781770841734noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1977519363610601316.post-43941431226263639292014-01-30T23:00:00.000-05:002014-01-31T00:52:52.107-05:00Snow Insanity<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Have you been watching the news this week? My hometown of Atlanta had a bit of snow on Tuesday, and the result was utter chaos and pandemonium. Cars were stuck in traffic for 16+ hours, eventually getting abandoned. People slept in the aisles at Home Depot. A baby was born on the side of I-285 when her parents were unable to make it to the hospital.<br />
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As I watched TV, transfixed by the footage, I was trying to recall if such a situation had ever happened when I lived there. Surely it did. As a kid, I would likely have been oblivious to any inconvenience or hardship, joyfully sledding down some hill while the adults inched through traffic trying to get home.<br />
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North Carolina didn't get hit too hard this week. A couple of inches in my area, but no resulting snow apocalypse. However, in honor of all of the wintry weather excitement, I thought I'd share some snow scenes from my recent trip to Duluth, Minnesota. If you want to see some serious snow this winter, just head on up to the Arrowhead region of northern Minnesota!<br />
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I have to add a note about the above photo. Moments after I took it, I drove around to the front of the store where I saw a teenage girl and a woman, who appeared to be the girl's mother, walking toward the entrance. The girl was wearing shorts. It was -2 degrees, and the windchill was -20. I happen to know the exact temps, because I took a screenshot of the current conditions on my iPhone at the time (this was one of those things you have to share with someone by text message). Ahhh, youth.<br />
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How much snow was there you ask? The drifts were so high, it was no easy matter to locate the restaurant for dinner. <i>("What's that building over there Martha, is that the tire store or the restaurant?" "I don't know Henry, see if you can find the entrance to the parking lot.")</i></div>
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In places, the snow depth was as high as the truck! That is, if you were lucky enough to have been parked in a garage during the preceding week. If not, your vehicle was more or less one with the snow...<br />
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The snow was almost as tall as my former next door neighbor. </div>
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Yes indeed, there was a lot of snow, and I loved every minute spent in that frozen, beautiful place. Part of my heart has always remained in the North Country, and when I'm back there, I feel whole - snow, subzero temps, and all. And lest my readers feel adrift with no mention of a dog, bird, cat, or wild animal, let me close with one of the current residents of my old house, who appears to be every bit as comfortable in the snow as I am.<br />
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Good dog! </div>
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Brendahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08734831781770841734noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1977519363610601316.post-19600886078368068972014-01-22T23:48:00.001-05:002014-01-23T22:00:32.116-05:00My Special Friend<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL3mw5mDwCOXCaYMWyDlnqggZGb68JmJrphG_FINOevX5scTtactxXc2kENcpIZq3Mddq3FmaISPx_hEyEILlcbrH2IqEdT7PB6Ey3Qo0BHM_0zbE9kJdorvl1YQEihonjklo9u0cu_3Y/s1600/IMG_226fox1resz.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL3mw5mDwCOXCaYMWyDlnqggZGb68JmJrphG_FINOevX5scTtactxXc2kENcpIZq3Mddq3FmaISPx_hEyEILlcbrH2IqEdT7PB6Ey3Qo0BHM_0zbE9kJdorvl1YQEihonjklo9u0cu_3Y/s1600/IMG_226fox1resz.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
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My special friend came visiting today, appearing outside my office window just before noon. The sun was well up in the sky, shining brightly if rather anemically, and I'd just returned from a trip out back to distribute some fresh sunflower seed, peanuts, and thistle. The birds seemed giddy with the relative warmth, swooping into the feeders and hopping about on the ground, titmice, cardinals, chickadees, sparrows, goldfinch, and juncos en masse, appreciative of the new food supply. The next time I glanced out the window however, my fox friend was munching the seed from the bottom of the overturned planter, and there wasn't a bird in sight.<br />
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This red fox is very special to me, and always welcome to partake of the bird buffet. </div>
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It was grievously injured last summer, hit by a car most likely. The fox suffered a compound fracture of its left rear leg, an injury that traumatized me as much as it traumatized the fox. I quickly learned that none of the animal rescue or wildlife agencies will intervene in such a situation. The best advice I got was to call the police and see if I could talk them into coming over and shooting it. If the fox had been immobilized, I no doubt would have gone that route, to put it out of its misery. But it was still mobile, and would hop off into the woods as soon as it caught sight of any movement. </div>
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Thus began days and weeks of emotional anguish, as the hapless thing refused to die, hopping about with that horrible injury, passing my window every few days. I eventually closed the blinds to my office window and left them down, as I could not bear to see it. Not knowing what else to do, I began praying for this fox. I asked friends and family to pray for it, despite the fact that I was fairly sure this would ensure my being labeled a lunatic. After all, how many wild animals get injured and killed every minute of every day, right? My pastor was good enough not to ridicule my distress, and he offered the following prayer, which I prayed every time I saw it, and whenever I became upset thinking about it - </div>
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<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1390447770898_302266" style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: center;">
<span class="yiv0920854839Apple-style-span" id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1390447770898_302274" style="color: #660000; line-height: 23px;"><span class="yiv0920854839Apple-style-span" id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1390447770898_302273" style="background-color: white; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif; font-size: large;"><i id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1390447770898_302272"><span id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1390447770898_302271"><b id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1390447770898_302270">We humbly pray Lord, that in Your mercy </b></span></i></span></span></div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1390447770898_302266" style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: center;">
<span class="yiv0920854839Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000; line-height: 23px;"><span class="yiv0920854839Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif; font-size: large;"><i><b>You would relieve the suffering of Your creatures.</b></i></span></span></div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1390447770898_302281" style="color: #660000; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif; font-style: italic; text-align: center;">
<span class="yiv0920854839Apple-style-span" id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1390447770898_302280" style="line-height: 23px;"><span id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1390447770898_302279"><span class="yiv0920854839Apple-style-span" id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1390447770898_302278" style="background-color: white; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif; font-size: large;"><i id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1390447770898_302277"><span id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1390447770898_302276"><b id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1390447770898_302275">For surely, You are the Creator of all and </b></span></i></span></span></span></div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1390447770898_302281" style="color: #660000; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif; font-style: italic; text-align: center;">
<span class="yiv0920854839Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 23px;"><span class="yiv0920854839Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif; font-size: large;"><i><b>You desire the wholeness of all You have created.</b></i></span></span></div>
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<span class="yiv0920854839Apple-style-span" id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1390447770898_302297" style="line-height: 23px;"><span id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1390447770898_302296"><span class="yiv0920854839Apple-style-span" id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1390447770898_302295" style="background-color: white; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif; font-size: large;"><i id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1390447770898_302294"><span id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1390447770898_302293"><b id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1390447770898_302292">Amen</b></span></i></span></span></span></div>
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I prayed this prayer as I wept for it on this afternoon in September, as it napped in my garden three weeks after the injury. When I first noticed it lying out there, I thought "well that's great, it has come to die in my garden." But it wasn't dying, just peacefully napping. It smelled me through the open window when I crept closer to get a better look, eventually getting up and limping away.</div>
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There is more to this story, more than I can tell here, more than I'm comfortable telling here. It is healed and healthy now, and a regular visitor to the bird feeders I've put out for the winter, getting around on three legs as well as other animals do on four. Suffice it to say that this beautiful red fox represents for me miracle and mystery, as well as a powerful lesson in humility. Despite what I had previously imagined, it actually isn't my job to take care of, and personally be responsible for, every being on earth. I have other work to do. I can however, still love these creatures. <span style="text-align: center;">And oh my, do I love this fox. </span></div>
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(Yep, there's seed up there too! </div>
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Help yourself, you beautiful and tenacious creature.)</div>
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Brendahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08734831781770841734noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1977519363610601316.post-35164146420162387932014-01-19T14:11:00.000-05:002014-01-19T14:11:23.738-05:00Here a Hair, There a Hair...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
This weekend I am inspired to sing a song. Ready? Here goes...</div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">"Old MacDonald had a Shepherd, E-I-E-I-O</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">And on that Shepherd there was lots of hair, E-I-E-I-O</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">With a hair hair here, and a hair hair there, </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Here a hair, there a hair, everywhere a hair hair</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Old MacDonald had a Shepherd, E-I-E-I-O!" </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I'm sure there are plenty of dog breeds that shed, but German Shepherds truly excel in this area. I think I've mentioned before that if you can't tolerate hair wafting in clumps about your house and the idea of developing a very close relationship with your vacuum cleaner, then a Shepherd is not the dog for you. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO7KqIhTnNh5_jKgBagLrOOXSLaP2LdZ-nlo3Exyaqk6I1WCq10T9bfoXFfq9OvZ9qYDhevWc_H_BZ7DAE_SxCevrwprnt269MSyD5l-C5hy56sqH8CF9BFRlznUDiWWlCWxsYgPUSpsc/s1600/IMG_2218.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO7KqIhTnNh5_jKgBagLrOOXSLaP2LdZ-nlo3Exyaqk6I1WCq10T9bfoXFfq9OvZ9qYDhevWc_H_BZ7DAE_SxCevrwprnt269MSyD5l-C5hy56sqH8CF9BFRlznUDiWWlCWxsYgPUSpsc/s1600/IMG_2218.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The German Shepherd's gentle intelligence, loyalty, and desire for deep connection with her people </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">has won me over for life . But goodness gracious, the hair! This weekend was our second major grooming session in a week. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Lady doesn't seem to mind though. She says it's relaxing to be brushed. </span></div>
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A German Shepherd doesn't generally get to relax during the day. There's just too much to be done. She must always be on alert, watching out for her family, guarding against possible intruders - both human and animal - and constantly working to make sure everyone stays together to the greatest degree possible. So it's good to be able to relax for a few minutes.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeWJPe7egg1MW_UTe5pXt2KNqgd6J5Xmw76bJBJZ1n3XYm9MEvE_HjXWGgxleKUkT5dAxv3K19QZg7k3IV7lG_iKdEIQ9vVLNKBgwgSpLrlWuOZ-7AuzGIBD_UMlsdFKLObcCVuZ3X1c8/s1600/IMG_2226.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeWJPe7egg1MW_UTe5pXt2KNqgd6J5Xmw76bJBJZ1n3XYm9MEvE_HjXWGgxleKUkT5dAxv3K19QZg7k3IV7lG_iKdEIQ9vVLNKBgwgSpLrlWuOZ-7AuzGIBD_UMlsdFKLObcCVuZ3X1c8/s1600/IMG_2226.jpg" height="400" width="318" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">One thing I haven't been able to figure out. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx5fc_tUC2J36I4MOK4vRq4ClxsNRUazxNczD68ncRG2CpOwEwF9ajm696tlieCQoyI5_t-kTBhCu2ubPVAEcc7obNP7Ah2TlyEgQqQRi9ahCM4QtzoogCERUF8wkNZqGATIUW2uETJ0w/s1600/IMG_2224.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx5fc_tUC2J36I4MOK4vRq4ClxsNRUazxNczD68ncRG2CpOwEwF9ajm696tlieCQoyI5_t-kTBhCu2ubPVAEcc7obNP7Ah2TlyEgQqQRi9ahCM4QtzoogCERUF8wkNZqGATIUW2uETJ0w/s1600/IMG_2224.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
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Why is it that brushing the dog seems mostly to be a process of </div>
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transferring the hair from dog to person?</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbkgAA8UoZCHrZWgiLoFOPRk3emTHIIsuK82QhBx5Ug4favC5JWnmp4qoNc5VtTjW1yno3rS8oYZXJllCzv-_UWYc8Sscv4gQ_kaL_iwc_Ua4gi6c8fttlgCm_861hCof4zyyh5hTyLVM/s1600/IMG_2235.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbkgAA8UoZCHrZWgiLoFOPRk3emTHIIsuK82QhBx5Ug4favC5JWnmp4qoNc5VtTjW1yno3rS8oYZXJllCzv-_UWYc8Sscv4gQ_kaL_iwc_Ua4gi6c8fttlgCm_861hCof4zyyh5hTyLVM/s1600/IMG_2235.jpg" height="400" width="298" /></a></div>
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Hmmm....</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5LY5VNjSkqJh8pjZVF3Xcis_z48QLgK_a_8dyA93uxq3JywhbckMtsTdR-uut-pXCIhNTwcx8u5OHf8z2VGaDbJtLXApVXEdlWip4NeIJJ00oSY504FuNSWfHgsUu6tWbPW-155rqAl8/s1600/IMG_2240.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5LY5VNjSkqJh8pjZVF3Xcis_z48QLgK_a_8dyA93uxq3JywhbckMtsTdR-uut-pXCIhNTwcx8u5OHf8z2VGaDbJtLXApVXEdlWip4NeIJJ00oSY504FuNSWfHgsUu6tWbPW-155rqAl8/s1600/IMG_2240.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipUBZrmMVOhwjs4ZYyDtXB4tn2bIsDv-Fsx-ZALT_ciNVWjbscHJed46zLMSjkZYHXadltsR4UrONN0YrVBme1wYOMwgx0kPL3jBRZYewZ94PB-TB_jYA_Pt0t6Jm4nmR32OGoMaY1Y7U/s1600/IMG_2241.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipUBZrmMVOhwjs4ZYyDtXB4tn2bIsDv-Fsx-ZALT_ciNVWjbscHJed46zLMSjkZYHXadltsR4UrONN0YrVBme1wYOMwgx0kPL3jBRZYewZ94PB-TB_jYA_Pt0t6Jm4nmR32OGoMaY1Y7U/s1600/IMG_2241.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I think I will just close my eyes for a minute...</td></tr>
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Brendahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08734831781770841734noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1977519363610601316.post-56637254246020249032014-01-16T21:27:00.000-05:002014-01-16T21:27:32.520-05:00The Night ShiftI've been burning the midnight oil this week, trying to meet my work deadline. I'm writing a training curriculum and it has taken hours and hours and hours and hours of work. But finally, the end is in sight. On Tuesday, I showed you my team of helpers, Lucy on the desk supervising closely, and Lady and Katie supervising from the floor. Well, I have to share with you a photo of the same scene at 10 pm last night. Notice what's missing here?<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMQtvHIoLiiekg6NefCf3qLbt5uyf8Aj3h7dEzeGstE3K492GYjhE3EUHkeFtUahu_YIHWYN3TewJ83dAkuOsLzI4NGokrk06TdiCcVm7TADqm_MMPp7Uo_14Av7S-THT7bdOA-gjHARw/s1600/IMG_2216nightshift.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMQtvHIoLiiekg6NefCf3qLbt5uyf8Aj3h7dEzeGstE3K492GYjhE3EUHkeFtUahu_YIHWYN3TewJ83dAkuOsLzI4NGokrk06TdiCcVm7TADqm_MMPp7Uo_14Av7S-THT7bdOA-gjHARw/s1600/IMG_2216nightshift.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
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The helpers! I have no idea how a dog or cat would manage to perceive the "work day," but I can assure you that my crew understands that concept. They are downstairs in my office with me all day, but they leave between 5 and 6 pm and do not return! I think that's so funny. The first time it happened I thought it was a fluke. But no, it's the same every night. Lady, Katie, and Lucy don't do overtime. I guess it wasn't in their job descriptions! As a result, the night shift is kind of lonely...<br />
<br />Brendahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08734831781770841734noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1977519363610601316.post-83279084063463236192014-01-14T20:43:00.001-05:002014-01-14T20:43:08.085-05:00Tick...Tock...Tick...TockWe are working on a DEADLINE over here at A Scratch Behind The Ears, so there shall be no posting or visiting this week. There are exactly 67 hours and 48 minutes until my work project is due. Some of that time is needed for sleeping. Fortunately I have a team of helpers...<div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAPAerQnusJdechWTDp4U1zTeyZC1T9j5EaRTmHTOGAa-MGyN_l69ZDslE3FRLMTxTvomXGjXiclXo3xRUdnP1xmEKTAkQDsOng6PCU_a9relaUcB_t2c_Qq3kzQdfHAXz8BPiV3I2vcQ/s1600/IMG_2083.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAPAerQnusJdechWTDp4U1zTeyZC1T9j5EaRTmHTOGAa-MGyN_l69ZDslE3FRLMTxTvomXGjXiclXo3xRUdnP1xmEKTAkQDsOng6PCU_a9relaUcB_t2c_Qq3kzQdfHAXz8BPiV3I2vcQ/s400/IMG_2083.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Wish me luck! :)</div>
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Brendahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08734831781770841734noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1977519363610601316.post-81540193917056411132014-01-10T08:35:00.000-05:002014-01-10T10:50:45.905-05:00Mandarin Marvels<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqKOEl_QG4gueGVzjS9hT_KkvqGqYkPmMWjS4y1CyhHoMXSncZACc9DynPtC1p1iip6aducw2hKQnj2HBUB3q0aJ3F_q9zfEUjc0tGiCJgUsHkMMTld1KiWKKIudkJaabOd3t4nRE8tC0/s1600/IMG_1313.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqKOEl_QG4gueGVzjS9hT_KkvqGqYkPmMWjS4y1CyhHoMXSncZACc9DynPtC1p1iip6aducw2hKQnj2HBUB3q0aJ3F_q9zfEUjc0tGiCJgUsHkMMTld1KiWKKIudkJaabOd3t4nRE8tC0/s1600/IMG_1313.jpg" height="400" width="265" /></a>Sometimes, the most ordinary of daily routines can lead you to something remarkable. That happened this week on my Wednesday walk. It was the most ordinary of weekday walks, one that as usual I was feeling better about toward the finish than the start. I was keeping a quick pace, trying to beat the encroaching winter dusk and dropping temperatures. But as I passed a bridge, an icy scene peeking through the rhododendron called to me, so I made a quick detour to stand on the bridge and take in the beauty for a brief moment. Winter has a stillness about it that I find compelling. </div>
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I was just turning to leave when I spotted something below, a duck. A <i>beautiful</i> duck! There were two of them, on a rock, almost hidden in the shadows at the creek's edge. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk_NvK6Iep-ob7CpJHzg6T3bZpC_YOK1rqm5fq54hZ_PwAynH9Io94AVVJBOx7XU0vf4ZgL6pPiTt3BV3D60O2Xd7EnQhIf0ZtdIHp__jz2WyvnNhdxEPjECgJbjqkkfG61kkjCl16sbo/s1600/IMG_1343.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk_NvK6Iep-ob7CpJHzg6T3bZpC_YOK1rqm5fq54hZ_PwAynH9Io94AVVJBOx7XU0vf4ZgL6pPiTt3BV3D60O2Xd7EnQhIf0ZtdIHp__jz2WyvnNhdxEPjECgJbjqkkfG61kkjCl16sbo/s1600/IMG_1343.jpg" height="285" width="400" /></a><br />
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I stared in wonderment. The creatures looked as if someone had taken a brush and set of paints and done a paint-by-number on them. As my eyes settled into the twilight, I saw more...4, 6...maybe 7. It was too dark for photos, so after marveling at them for a few moments I hurried on my way, back down the path. </div>
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The next morning, as soon as the sun was well up and over the mountains I returned to the bridge with my Canon, and was thrilled to find the colorful ducks in the exact place I'd seen them the preious evening. My first shots were from the bridge using my telephoto, but the harsh morning shadows were not in my favor. I wanted to get closer.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh61lw9BtjIwgAKFbpWpS9zYljHf8BwvxNQIr13xqRRL-v8GVFiVo6sf7tuBDsYpKMY9dIVv01Z28Yi3pOW_x-8Ir6LGTiF2tag7yMrlp7SsA7fvYJgWOqq9i6U98xmzWU5zZtZw4GOucs/s1600/IMG_1300.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh61lw9BtjIwgAKFbpWpS9zYljHf8BwvxNQIr13xqRRL-v8GVFiVo6sf7tuBDsYpKMY9dIVv01Z28Yi3pOW_x-8Ir6LGTiF2tag7yMrlp7SsA7fvYJgWOqq9i6U98xmzWU5zZtZw4GOucs/s1600/IMG_1300.jpg" height="640" width="456" /></a></div>
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I gingerly crept down a path leading from the rocky bank to the creek's edge, certain that the ducks were going to spook and fly away at any moment. But they didn't. I didn't make eye contact, and adopted my best "I'm not here, you don't see me, I'm not paying any attention to you" persona, and settled with my camera onto a large boulder. Quietly I raised my camera and focused. </div>
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What a spectacularly beautiful being. I've only seen birds this colorful in books, perhaps at a zoo. They were on both sides of the bank, two sunning themselves and snoozing on a rock on the opposite bank, and four others busily grooming themselves under a rhododendron on my side. The female in that group, pictured below second from the left, was the only female I saw. </div>
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I needn't have worried about scaring them away. The duck at the far right of the group above swam away from his friends and came over to check me out. I was delighted at his curiosity. He cocked his head left and right just like Lady! It made me laugh. </div>
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I wonder if people feed them. I bet they do. This little guy was clearly expecting something other than my adoration. </div>
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When I returned home, I googled 'colorful duck' in the hopes of learning the name of these multi-colored wonders. Images immediately appeared (whatever did we do before google?) and within seconds I knew that what I'd seen were Mandarin Ducks, or Yuan-yang in Chinese. According to Wikipedia, the species was once widespread in eastern Asia, but their numbers have diminished to about 1000 pairs in eastern Russia and in China. Japan is thought to still hold about 5000 pairs. Because they have been widely exported for collections, where they sometimes escape and create wild populations, more of these ducks now exist in Europe, the largest population in and around Berlin. </div>
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I went on to read that isolated populations exist in the United States.... </div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 19px;">The town of </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Black_Mountain,_North_Carolina" style="background-color: white; background-image: none; line-height: 19px; text-decoration: none;" title="Black Mountain, North Carolina"><span style="color: #0b5394;">Black Mountain, North Carolina</span></a><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 19px;"><span style="color: #073763;"> </span>has a limited population,</span><sup class="reference" id="cite_ref-6" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1em; unicode-bidi: -webkit-isolate;"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mandarin_Duck#cite_note-6" style="background-image: none; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; color: #0b0080; text-decoration: none; white-space: nowrap;">[6]</a></sup><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 19px;"> and there is a free-flying feral population of several hundred mandarins in </span><span style="color: #0b5394;"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sonoma_County,_California" style="background-color: white; background-image: none; line-height: 19px; text-decoration: none;" title="Sonoma County, California">Sonoma County, California</a><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 19px;">.</span></span></span></blockquote>
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Black Mountain! That's my town! Technically I took these photos in Montreat, just down the road, but the two communities are very close. Wow... two locations in the United States are mentioned, and one of them is here. My remarkable Mandarin discovery suddenly became even more remarkable. I will have to go back and visit my colorful ducks again, now that I know how relatively rare they are. Maybe I'll google what they eat and take a snack next time. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It isn't often that we have days of temps in the single digits and teens. Down the creek from the ducks, where the water spills out of Lake Susan, the boulders are covered with thick ice. It's almost as much of a marvel as the ducks!</td></tr>
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<!-- Blogger automated replacement: "https://images-blogger-opensocial.googleusercontent.com/gadgets/proxy?url=http%3A%2F%2F1.bp.blogspot.com%2F-xbCQloOiReA%2FUs_4lXx1V2I%2FAAAAAAAACNA%2F-cJnsvsoB84%2Fs1600%2FIMG_1313.jpg&container=blogger&gadget=a&rewriteMime=image%2F*" with "https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqKOEl_QG4gueGVzjS9hT_KkvqGqYkPmMWjS4y1CyhHoMXSncZACc9DynPtC1p1iip6aducw2hKQnj2HBUB3q0aJ3F_q9zfEUjc0tGiCJgUsHkMMTld1KiWKKIudkJaabOd3t4nRE8tC0/s1600/IMG_1313.jpg" -->Brendahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08734831781770841734noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1977519363610601316.post-86385551533267556602014-01-05T22:39:00.000-05:002014-01-05T22:39:19.612-05:00Sweet DreamsKatie is a sound sleeper. And when I say sound sleeper, I mean a sleep so deep that on two separate occasions this past year I was briefly convinced that she had died in her sleep. I knelt beside her, my heart pounding wildly, shaking her - "Katie!" "Katie!" Finally, after an eternity...movement. And then she would slowly clamber to her feet, confused look on her face, no doubt wondering "What's going on? What is all this fuss about?" As my heart rate slowly returned to normal, I would marvel that any creature could sleep so deeply that she could sleep through such repeated shaking and shouting.<br />
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Last week, when it was time for the dogs to have some leftovers from breakfast, Katie was off in dreamland, far far away. Just for fun, I decided to conduct a little experiment. I decided to put her eggs down in front of her nose, and see how long it took her to smell them and wake up. Keep in mind that this dog's universe and life priorities consist of #1 food, and #2 of.... well, there is no #2. Food is the sun, and Katie orbits around it.<br />
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It took 3 minutes and 25 seconds. An impressively long time, I thought. </div>
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I bet in Katie's world, waking up to find scrambled eggs lying in front of your nose is akin to winning the lottery. I would imagine as far as she's concerned it doesn't get much better than that.<br />
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No more for now Miss Katie, go back to sleep. Sweet dreams... <br />
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<br />Brendahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08734831781770841734noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1977519363610601316.post-52943241362287797642014-01-01T17:18:00.000-05:002014-01-01T17:19:50.984-05:00It's A Wrap - Goodbye 2013, Hello 2014!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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It's hard to believe we've wrapped up another year. The weeks from Thanksgiving to New Years went by in a festive whirlwind, work, shopping, and time spent with family and friends enjoying the holiday traditions. After Thanksgiving, we wasted no time getting out the Christmas decorations and Christmas toys...<br />
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Then it was time to wrap gifts. Lucy did her part (she specializes in ribbon). </div>
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At some point during the colder weeks of December, it became apparent that both dogs preferred the bed with the high sides. Perhaps it's warmer. In any case, Katie seemed always to be left on the floor. (Never mind that there are at least 3 or 4 other beds lying around the house, all of which look quite comfortable).<br />
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The week before Christmas, we paused briefly to record our solstice shadows on one of the shortest days of the year. One year ago on the solstice date, we were all waiting to see if the world would end. Remember that? </div>
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I was hoping the world would not end on Dec. 21, 2012 because Lucy was to be the <a href="http://ascratchbehindtheears.blogspot.com/2011/09/lucy-is-star.html">featured kitty</a> in the 365 Cats Page-A-Day calendar on Dec. 28. If the world ended, that would spoil all the fun. I wanted Lucy to have her day of fame, and fortunately for all of us, she got it. Here we are, one year later, with the December 2012 doomsday prediction now a distant memory.</div>
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Finally the big day came! Santa must have known that Lady, Katie, and Lucy had all been very good this year, because there were many surprises in their stockings. </div>
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But wait... there was more! A big box, hidden behind the tree. </div>
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We wondered what it could be... </div>
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A new dog bed!! The warm, cushy kind, with sides! </div>
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Now there are two round beds with sides, and Katie is no longer on the floor. </div>
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It was a good Christmas.</div>
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Happy New Year to all our blogger friends. I pray that 2014 brings love, health, peace, and prosperity to you and your families, both furry and otherwise!</div>
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Brendahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08734831781770841734noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1977519363610601316.post-72057329645371970652013-11-26T23:16:00.000-05:002013-11-26T23:16:10.473-05:00Eyes on the Skies<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Mr. Elf and Tom Turkey are ready to travel <span style="color: blue;">"over the</span> <strike>river</strike> <span style="color: blue;">mountain, and through the woods, to </span><strike>grandmother's</strike> <span style="color: blue;">sister's house we go!"</span> But the weather is making this one a nail-biter. You just never know around here...one or two degrees up or down the temperature gauge can mean the difference between a soaking rain or a blizzard. We were under an ice storm warning last night, and completely dodged that bullet. Hopefully the same will hold true tonight. Currently, the forecast for tomorrow morning looks like this:<br />
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Tom Turkey makes an appearance every year on the Thanksgiving table, so he's used to traveling. This trip will be an adventure for Mr. Elf, however. He has spent the last 20 or so years living behind the olive oil and protein powder up in the cupboard. My mom made the Mr. Elf cookie jar when I was a child. It's one of those things I don't actually use anymore, but can't bring myself to throw away.<br />
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My Book Club friends are of the opinion that he's a creepy looking elf. In his defense, he looks quite jolly and benign sitting out on the counter filled with chocolate chip cookies. But lurking behind the olive oil, in the shadows... hmmm...maybe. And as my niece pointed out, he does look a bit creepy hiding behind the scarf. We may have ourselves a character from a future Stephen King novel here.<br />
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Either way, he's not living up to his full potential here, so he's headed to Georgia to live at my sister's house for awhile. If the weather holds out and we can get there. Fingers crossed!<br />
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Check out the great dinner I made tonight, inspired by Sam at <a href="http://mycarolinakitchen.blogspot.com/2013/11/spicy-roasted-butternut-squash-feta-and.html">My Carolina Kitchen.</a> The Spicy Roasted Butternut Squash salad was every bit as good as I imagined it would be when I read her post last week. I added a Maryland Crab Cake and mmm, mmm good - thanks for sharing the recipe, Sam!<br />
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The rain on the skylight sounds like sleet. Perhaps I should get up off the sofa and check it out. Lucy is not worried. Lucy is hardly ever worried. She has been laying next to me as I type, snoring little kitty snores. Very cute. Stay warm everyone, and if you're traveling for the holiday - be safe!<br />
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<br />Brendahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08734831781770841734noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1977519363610601316.post-20915888152676099232013-11-18T13:44:00.000-05:002013-11-18T20:17:22.092-05:00Summer, Fall, It's a Blur!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Has it really been more than four months since my last post? My goodness, how is that possible? The months have gone by in a blur! Lots of work, lots of play, but nothing particularly dramatic to report. As summer's heat and humidity gave way to the beautiful crisp days of fall, we got out on the trails as often as possible.<br />
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One of my favorite destinations of the past few months was beautiful Crabtree Falls. It was a glorious sight to behold surrounded by the glowing yellow and orange forest. </div>
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Katie has gotten a little too advanced in years to enjoy these hikes, she prefers to stay home now. Her favorite place is in the kitchen waiting for food to appear.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIrrxk4N97RDEWWVQAUhIJBqwBzEDP_OhTs7XCMPpFc3_swO_w9-B5cGGcRsOJqIHx4UshYdd8zj_SQBV-KhNgDZx8O16Fm_txGuIJErWpQH2fbbiH7asUm3Zg4v-ksHFa2wp359WvcyM/s1600/IMG_9968Ladyresized.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIrrxk4N97RDEWWVQAUhIJBqwBzEDP_OhTs7XCMPpFc3_swO_w9-B5cGGcRsOJqIHx4UshYdd8zj_SQBV-KhNgDZx8O16Fm_txGuIJErWpQH2fbbiH7asUm3Zg4v-ksHFa2wp359WvcyM/s400/IMG_9968Ladyresized.jpg" width="315" /></a>But Lady is still going strong at maybe 8 years, maybe 10 1/2 years of age. She's supposed to be 10 1/2, but I find that hard to believe - she can still jump into the back of the truck with ease.<br />
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Back in 2007, the shelter staff told the German Shepherd Rescue that Lady was 4, and her sibling Dixie who had been turned in with her (and was adopted straight from the shelter) was supposedly 1 1/2.<br />
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But Lady acted like a 1 1/2 year old then, and she acts more like an 8 year old now, so my theory is some mixed up paperwork! Regardless of her true age, Lady loves hiking and exploring.<br />
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Lady's favorite boy came for a visit in September and hit the trails with us, which was great fun. We had a picture perfect day - the only problem was that it wasn't long enough!<br />
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Lucy holds down the fort while we're out on these adventures, working with Katie to make sure the house is safe and secure.<br />
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We spent a lot of time in Montreat, which is right down the road. I must have a hundred photos of these canoes on Lake Susan in October, but every fall the scene calls out to me and I must attempt to capture it with my lens yet again. After all, the scene is a little different every time I pass by; it's like two snowflakes - no two moments every quite the same!<br />
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Will close this brief update post with a photo of Lady, conked out on the living room floor. When Lady is sleeping deeply, after a long day of hiking - and not being her usual vigilant, watchful self - her tongue sticks out a little bit. It always makes me smile. :)<br />
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Hope all our blogger friends have had fun this fall, the kind of fun that makes you so "good tired" that your tongue kind of sticks out when you sleep.<br />
<br />Brendahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08734831781770841734noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1977519363610601316.post-48882733975501448402013-07-04T19:22:00.000-04:002013-07-04T19:22:13.383-04:00Happy 4th of July!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Some fascinating Independence Day trivia from my friend Trip, who posted this on Facebook today. Check this out...<br />
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<span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Heres something interesting for you to share about this date in history: In a remarkable coincidence, both John Adams and Thomas Jefferson, the only signers of the Declaration of Independence later to serve as Presidents of the United States, died on the same day: July 4, 1826, which was the 50th anniversary of the Declaration. </span></blockquote>
Did you know this? I did not! <br />
<br />Brendahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08734831781770841734noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1977519363610601316.post-17216298643823689492013-06-30T21:57:00.000-04:002013-07-01T21:56:11.797-04:00Ergonomically Speaking<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Working from a home office has many benefits. My commute is approximately 45 seconds, the time it takes me to walk from the upstairs to the downstairs. I only need "work clothes" for the days when I'm actually going to see coworkers. The lack of coworkers, however, tends to be one of the disadvantages. You can't walk down the hall and vent to a coworker when you're having a bad day. Somehow it's just not the same via email or telephone.<br />
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My coworkers most days are 4 footed furry ones. Lady and Katie never let me go to work alone. Every morning, we have the same routine. I brew my coffee, whip up a protein smoothie in the Ninja, and then announce "Okay girls, time to go to work!" Then we all head to the office downstairs. They stay with me all day, leaving only when I need to go upstairs for a coffee refill or a bite of lunch. It's so cute how they follow me.<br />
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Lucky never wanted anything to do with the whole "going to work" business. In fact, during the entire past year, I think he only went downstairs one time. It may have been the stairs. His entire life, he never was crazy about stairs. But I never knew for sure. Since he couldn't talk, he never was able to explain his reluctance to join us for the work day. But that was fine, I always had my girls to keep me company.<br />
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However, by the end of the day, sometimes I have strange aches and pains. I wonder what OSHA would think of the computer desk ergonomics that require my remaining perfectly still for long periods of time so as not to roll over a dog ear or paw?<br />
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And let's not even talk about the potential for carpal tunnel. </div>
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Yes, Lucy joins me at work too. She doesn't stay all day like Lady and Katie, rather, she comes sauntering down on her own schedule. I hear her before I see her, as she begin meowing her arrival about halfway down the hall. We have a routine here too. As soon she appears in the doorway, I say "Luc!" (pronounced "Loose!") And she says "Meow!" Then she comes over and asks to get on my lap. How do you say no to a face like this?<br />
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You don't. You just welcome her on up, and make do the best you can. Not moving the chair too much (she doesn't like that when she's napping).<br />
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And typing carefully, so as not to jostle her little head. </div>
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Ergonomically speaking, it's not the best way to work. </div>
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But I wouldn't trade it for the world.</div>
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Brendahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08734831781770841734noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1977519363610601316.post-5376529853709529762013-06-16T23:42:00.000-04:002013-06-16T23:42:57.882-04:00A Safe Haven<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I love weekends. One of the best things about weekends is not having a schedule! Or at least <i>less</i> of a schedule. There's time and space to fritter, and explore. Yesterday I was enjoying just such a day, when I decided to look for a place I've long wanted to visit, a sanctuary called Animal Haven.<br />
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A little background about my interest in Animal Haven... Several years ago, I rescued a duck from an icy lake. The staff from the veterinary clinic fell in love with her, naming her "Mildred," and one of the staff tried to adopt her. But the woman's chickens took exception to the newcomer, so Mildred had to be relocated to an animal sanctuary called Animal Haven. I was told she would be safe for life there, that she seemed to like it - and that she'd met a boyfriend! I always thought it would be fun to go find this place and see Mildred happy and healthy, considering how pitiful and near death she was when I'd last seen her. However, life being busy as it is, weeks and months passed, and I never made it out there.<br />
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On Saturday I was out running errands when I approached the road that I'd been told led to Animal Haven. I was sure Mildred was gone by now, considering that was years ago. But I was still curious about the place, having never seen it. On impulse, I turned. I wandered down the road for awhile, and then spotted the sign as I approached a curve: "Animal Haven of Asheville."<br />
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I did not find Mildred, although the volunteer who showed me around encouraged me to call back when the owner was on property. All of the animals were not in sight, and she did not know them all by name. She knew many of them though, like Bonnie and Clyde, who honked loud greetings.<br />
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This place is amazing...such a beautiful, peaceful setting, and spotlessly clean! The animals have sheltered areas as well as open pastures, and they seem so happy. I met giant pot bellied pigs, including one who wagged her tail every time you said her name. So cute! I had no idea pigs wagged their tails.<br />
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The cats have a beautiful house, filled with all sorts of things a cat would love. Places to climb and hide, two lofts, and a completely enclosed outdoor area. It's cooled in the summer by a fan, and heated in winter. The volunteer explained that the cats are generally able to leave this area as they wish, but a new cat was not yet allowed outside, so we were careful to shut the gate behind us when we left.<br />
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I met a rabbit, and chickens, and ducks. But the cutest of all were the goats! Look at this little face...</div>
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How cute is he?? His mother was rescued recently from a circumstance of abuse and neglect, and baby goat here surprised everyone by making an appearance shortly thereafter. The volunteer who was showing me around said that the mother goat had made great strides in learning to trust her new environment and people. I saw her some distance away on a hillside and she looked pretty happy, pulling leaves off a tree. And lucky little baby goat, to have the opportunity to be born into such a safe, nurturing, beautiful place.<br />
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Few of the animals at this sanctuary are up for adoption. Most are old, or sick, and they will be lovingly cared for at Animal Haven for the rest of their lives. The more I learned about this place during my tour, the more impressed I was. Animal Haven is a 501c3 nonprofit organization, and everyone who works here is a volunteer. <i>Everyone!</i> This is remarkable. It must take an army of volunteers to care for all the animals, do the rehabilitation, keep the pens and houses clean, keep the grounds looking so beautiful, run the thrift store. The place radiated love.<br />
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I went on the website today to learn a little more about the background and operation of Animal Haven. I am ready to clean out my house and donate all my unneeded items to their thrift store! They also have an interesting sponsorship program. For $20 a month (or whatever you can afford), you can sponsor an animal that has been rescued from abuse or neglect. You can do this for yourself, or as a gift for someone else. They'll send its photo and information, and arrange a tour to meet the sponsored animal. You can also visit with it as often as you want, if you're local. I want to sponsor Baby Goat! If anyone would like more information about the sponsorship program, check out <a href="http://www.animalhaven.org/sponsor.html">http://www.animalhaven.org/sponsor.html</a><br />
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I am also going to call back and ask about Mildred. Regardless of whether she is still around or not, I am so thankful she got to live in this place. I could not have asked for anything better.</div>
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Brendahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08734831781770841734noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1977519363610601316.post-55184693427140005442013-06-08T18:00:00.000-04:002013-06-08T18:00:00.767-04:00A Life Well Lived<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Our friends and former next-door neighbors are saying goodbye today to their beloved Arlo. As hard as this day is - and heaven knows all of us who have loved and lost a cherished furry family member know how hard it is - it's also a day for celebrating love. How fortunate are we who have been loved by a dog! Dogs bring the very best kind of love into our lives. Selfless, freely given, no strings attached.<br />
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I had not planned to do a post about Arlo. However, this morning I got a text from my sister encouraging me to check Facebook for an update on a pitiful emaciated dog that they rescued 4 days ago (that's another story, will have to share that one next time). When I went to Facebook, instead of seeing Stray Dog's update, I saw the photo of Arlo above, accompanied by a poem written by the family's daughter Emily. It was beautiful and moving, and reading it felt like watching a slideshow of Arlo's life. I asked them if I could share it, and they said that both Arlo and Emily would like that. So here it is. Enjoy, and celebrate the unconditional love in your own life this day.<br />
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<span style="background: white;">Bye Bye Bean</span></span></div>
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<span style="background: white;">Of all the names that we ever made up,<br />Like Farlo and Bubner, The Bean always stuck.<br />
From the days when you stuffed all our socks in your mouth,<br />You were even too little to climb onto the couch!<br /><br />
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "lucida grande"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="background: white;">You grew mighty quick, your belly the quickest<br />That buttery middle was by far the thickest.<br />
Every now and then dad bought you ice cream in town,<br />Mom gave you cookies when you jumped up and down.<br />
In some of your snackage you were a bit naughty,<br />Like when you ate all that fudge from Lake Winnipesaukee.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "lucida grande"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="background: white;"><br />
That tummy of yours, always hungry for somethin'<br />Snarfed brownies and at least one blueberry muffin.<br />
Although you seemed to prefer baby carrots or steak,<br />There was even that time you gave my finger a taste!<br /><br />
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "lucida grande"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="background: white;">That tum tum, round and warm, loved a good rubbin'<br />
You'd flop on your back, always ready for lovin'!<br />
The butterybeaniest best morning snuggler,<br />You'd snort and wiggle your way under the covers.<br />
You'd only surrender while actively petted.<br />
Otherwise you'd say, tail thumping, "time for breakfast."</span></span></div>
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Into late years you'd play like a pup,<br />
Squeaking toys, on your back, legs sticking up.<br />
Remember "Go find Charlie...", "Who's out there...GO GET
'EM!"<br />
You'd chase those deer good...in the opposite direction!<br /><br />
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "lucida grande"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="background: white;">Bean, you were indeed a hairy fellow,<br />So mom redecorated the whole house in yellow.<br />
A toy carrot, a dishtowel, your Binky you'd find<br />
To welcome each one of us home, each time.<br /><br />
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "lucida grande"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="background: white;">You made great friends wherever you went,<br />Lives shaped by you are lives better spent.<br />
Lessons you shared without any talking<br />
Like patience, compassion; no judgment or mocking.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "lucida grande"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="background: white;">Thank you, my friend, for being around<br />
Whether under the desk, or on the old brown couch.<br /><br />
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "lucida grande"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="background: white;">Little Brother, Black Bead, Arlo Von Benard<br />
Arlo Farlo Big Fat Yarlo, BFD, and Schmarl<br />
The time has come, my sweet Bean, the time has come to rest<br />
Come here, boy, come. Lay your head down on my chest.<br />
Our hearts beat for you while you let out your last breath,<br />
May so much love lift you to wherever you go next.</span></span><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<i>Thanks to Emily for this beautiful tribute, and for allowing me to share it.</i></div>
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<br />
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Brendahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08734831781770841734noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1977519363610601316.post-23229468404150325322013-06-01T17:14:00.000-04:002013-06-01T21:36:52.707-04:00Springtime Adventures<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMDBskSbp3_JOHx2619n1LnsKMhFzwq_kGRfPpEjVM4N1Vapw681lx9wd2uC1X_BbIBZp5P-bjAHkPdxLJo_OU3iIjKtlZLyr-y85-jaxwb6T4QjdCev2z_SsTxi1cSxbC7r4leuzFVl4/s1600/IMG_7733onthetrail.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMDBskSbp3_JOHx2619n1LnsKMhFzwq_kGRfPpEjVM4N1Vapw681lx9wd2uC1X_BbIBZp5P-bjAHkPdxLJo_OU3iIjKtlZLyr-y85-jaxwb6T4QjdCev2z_SsTxi1cSxbC7r4leuzFVl4/s400/IMG_7733onthetrail.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Heading up Lookout Trail in Montreat!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
It's been a delightful spring here in the mountains, despite the fact that of course, the Luckster Boy is deeply missed. I've been so busy with springtime activities, I've not spent any time blogging. When I turned on my home computer this morning, it opened to a page I was looking at two weeks ago! I had to stop and think - "Had it really been two whole weeks since I last sat down at this computer??"<br />
<br />
It's time for an update! My last blog post was about Lucky's passing, so I don't want any of his friends thinking that we've gone into a cave to mourn. No, he would not want that, he would want us to enjoy every minute of spring, and that is exactly what we have been doing.<br />
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Springtime means spring cleaning = doggie bath time! Lady and Katie were good sports and tolerated their spring baths well. Of course, Katie adopted a posture of utter martyrdom throughout the process, but otherwise she managed just fine.<br />
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After the dogs were squeaky clean, it was time to wash the bed covers. The beds were piled and propped along one side of the living room as the covers dried and were put back on in stages. I got such a chuckle out of the scene below when I passed through at one point. Looks like the baths wore everyone out! </div>
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In the mountains, springtime also means visits from the local wildlife. The bird feeding oasis I got for my birthday lasted about one day before the bears discovered it. :-( I was saying very unkind things about the bear population that day. Fortunately (miraculously) it was not destroyed, and everything has now been put away until the winter. Sometimes you can wait a few weeks until they move on, so I may try again toward the end of June. But they'll probably find it again. More likely than not, I'm going to have to be patient and wait until winter.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I need one of these signs that are on the dumpsters in the neighborhood. </td></tr>
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Mama Fox has had another litter of kits this spring, and they have been a joy and delight to watch. This year there were five! They play like puppies, chasing and jumping on one another. Mama's lame back leg makes her easy to identify as the same fox who was seen with kits in this area last spring. It doesn't seem to slow her down at all; she hops along on three legs as easily as if she had four. Almost all the photos I've taken are very grainy, because the family tends to show up at dusk, and I seem always to have only my iPhone with me. I got these pics one night about a month ago when I was driving up the hill back to the house, and oh how I longed to have my Canon Rebel! The kits were fearless and practically posed for me.<br />
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Several times during the last week, the kits have passed by my home office window, one or two at a time. I was on a phone conference on Tuesday when one ran into view and pounced onto the dirt near the Mexican sunflowers I've planted. Then it jumped into the air again, spun around, pounced again, and ran off. Maybe it was after something I couldn't see, or maybe it was playing. They're usually moving through so quickly that by the time I get out of my chair and over to the window, they're gone. But a few days ago I got lucky and captured the photo below. I was so excited to finally get a decent shot of one of them! As you can see from the photo, the youngsters are getting bigger. <br />
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So that's the update from here. We hope all our Blogger friends are having a great spring too. I'll set aside some time this evening to come visiting, get caught up on what's been going on!Brendahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08734831781770841734noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1977519363610601316.post-69707706939026695832013-04-12T21:56:00.001-04:002013-04-12T21:56:53.348-04:00Goodbye Sweet Lucky<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Lucky</div>
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April 12, 2013</div>
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I am sorry to share with all of Lucky's friends the sad and shocking news that he passed away this evening. He has been the picture of health and wellbeing - we walked 3 miles last night! - and then without warning, this afternoon at around 5:15 pm he suddenly became ill. He wasn't acting like himself - oddly lethargic and he couldn't get up from the place where he'd been napping peacefully all afternoon. We took him to the vet, and by 8 pm he was gone. </div>
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It's so sad, so unexpected. Lucky for him - he got to live a happy, active life until almost the moment he left. But hard for us. I just never expected it like this. Just a few days ago, I was watching him and marveling how at his age, he was still so healthy and active. Wow. I guess we just never know. A reminder to us all not to take anything for granted. </div>
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Roam free, Lucky. I do believe you were probably the best dog that ever lived, trying so hard to always be a good boy. You will be missed. </div>
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Brendahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08734831781770841734noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1977519363610601316.post-20947307920369523152013-04-11T08:49:00.000-04:002013-04-11T10:50:12.372-04:00The Eye of the Beholder<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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My sister loves vultures. Until learning this curious fact, I'd never encountered anyone with a fondness for vultures, but apparently these big ugly birds have their fans. My sister tells me there are websites and a Facebook page devoted to vultures and their fans. Since learning of her interest, I've found myself noticing them more frequently. This probably helps explain why I was stalking them with my camera on the recent visit to Myakka River State Park. The park has both Black Vultures and Turkey Vultures, and the hike to Deep Hole was a vulture bonanza.<br />
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I had never seen so many in one place, and kept thinking "I wish my sister were here to see this!" A perfect storm of environmental factors the day of our hike resulted in remarkable wildlife viewing. The warm sunshine brought the alligators out to sun themselves, but an uncharacteristic cold snap just a few days earlier had killed large numbers of catfish, creating an "all-you-can-eat" seafood buffet for the vultures.<br />
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The alligators and vultures seemed to have an understanding, as neither bothered the other. Black Vultures are large birds, and with their 5 foot wingspan they have few predators. However I assume that a hungry or angry alligator could make short work of a vulture if so inclined. Thankfully, these alligators were not so inclined. I don't watch those animals-eating-other-animals shows on TV, and definitely did not want to see it in person! </div>
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The other bird we encountered on our hike is more universally admired - the pelican. On the day of our hike, we hit the bird watching jackpot. There were literally <i>thousands</i> of white pelicans congregating around Deep Hole. One of the rangers we encountered on the way out had also seen them and was as thrilled as we were. He told us he'd never before seen that many pelicans at Deep Hole at one time, estimating their numbers at around 2000. Lucky us!<br />
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White pelicans are even larger than vultures, with a wingspan of 8-9 feet. </div>
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Watching them take flight was quite a sight. </div>
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It was thrilling to be at this mysterious and wild place, just the four of us with dozens of black vultures, hundreds of alligators, and thousands of white pelicans. But all good things must come to an end, and eventually it was time to leave. The sun sank lower in the afternoon sky as we started the hike back, and I found myself wondering about Deep Hole at night. In such a remote area, miles from streetlights and the electric glow of civilization, the darkness must be complete and impenetrable. I thought about this as my feet, unaccustomed to hiking in sand, left clumsy tracks along the trail. Where do alligators sleep? In the water? On the shore? Well, one thing I did know for certain...<br />
I would <i>not</i> be there after dark to find out.<br />
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<br />Brendahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08734831781770841734noreply@blogger.com4