Last night was a double-whammy with the creatures that are out here on our property. And why is it that I am the one who always finds them?
I had put Mickey into the garage last night at dinner time... he goes in there willingly, eats his Fancy Feast on his little table, and then goes through the trap-door into the coop and watches the world going by as he relaxes in the fenced-in coop.
Well... on the way into the garage with his Fancy Feast favorite-flavor-of-the-moment, there was a huge tarantula crawling on the cement floor, headed straight for Mickey's side of the garage. And there was Mickey, just sitting there watching it crawling along the garage floor. I don't think tarantulas bite, but still, I didn't want that blasted thing near my cat. I got out a can of wasp spray and aimed it at that giant furry spider and it turned itself around and started walking towards one of the overhead doors. I opened up the door a bit, gave the spider another blast of the wasp spray, and sent it out into the driveway and then I shut the door tight. So there. I surprised myself that I handled it without calling my husband. The spider went off and died somewhere, Mickey was fine except I took away his entertainment for the night, and I went back into the house without saying too many bad words about country living.
I must be used to the tarantulas by now because even though it took me by surprise when I saw it in there, I didn't freak out or scream. I just stood there for a second and said out loud "Are you kidding me?" (The tarantula had no response.)
A couple of hours later, I was going out the back door with Savannah to let her pee in the grass before I went upstairs for the night. I was holding the screen door open, waiting for Savannah to get herself out of the door... she was stretching and taking her time getting across the kitchen.... and I thank my lucky stars for that big stretch of hers because had she been ready to walk out of that door, a chicken snake would have dropped down on my shoulders. (No, that is not a typo.)
Apparently, a brown chicken snake was perched up on the ledge over our back door... he must have been on his way to get to one of the barn swallow nests that are all over our porch. When I opened the door, he probably wasn't quite on the ledge, and the screen door caught him and sent him tumbling down onto the porch--- and thankfully not onto my head or shoulders because I was waiting just inside the door for Savannah to 'catch up' with me.
As the snake dropped down, my eyes caught the movement and I immediately knew what it was and I screamed out loud, which made Savannah back up into the kitchen, the back door slammed because I let go of it, and thankfully the snake landed outside on the porch and not inside on the kitchen floor. My husband heard me scream and he came running downstairs but by that time the snake was gone. Gary went outside on the porch and looked over the back door... and he figured out that the snake had been balancing half of his body on the ledge, half of him was dangling down on the screen door, and I just happened to open the door at the wrong moment.
Story of my life with the godforsaken wildlife out here.... I'm always at the wrong place at the wrong time and I see everything that's out there after dark. About the only thing I haven't seen yet is a bobcat, but I'm sure that will come along as well.
My husband said the solution to the snake-over-the-door problem is a round piece of wood to sit along the flat ledge that's above that back door. Hopefully, a snake won't be able to perch up there on a round surface.
My own solution is that we have to get rid of all these barn swallow nests, no matter how much we love watching the baby birds. We'll leave them up there for now because the birds are still laying eggs and raising their babies, but once they leave when the summer heat begins, I'm going to have our illustrious handyman scrape off all those nests, clean up the tops of the porch columns, and that's it... no more being a B&B for the barn swallows. Just as having a coop filled with chickens will attract snakes, these bird nests are also bringing the snakes too close to the house.
It's a wonder I was able to sleep last night without dreaming of snakes falling down on top of me. Life in the country... ain't all what it's cracked up to be.
Sunday, May 29, 2016
Wednesday, May 25, 2016
Back in this big old house...
...after taking a little trip to see Niagara Falls and The Baseball Hall of Fame in Cooperstown. Our dog Savannah had her first experience at 'puppy camp' -- which is what we were calling the deluxe boarding facility that kept her for us. The timing for this trip wasn't exactly the best for Savannah, but arrangements had been made and we followed thru with plans that had been finalized before Savannah's 12 days of being a lost dog.
While we were gone, our area in the hills here had nearly 8 inches of rain. We came home to high grass, a filled pond, and flowers blooming with bright colors instead of just the little green leaves that were poking out of the dirt when we left.
In the stack of mail was the bill from the air-conditioning guy.... nearly $500 for repairs on the outside unit because a very long snake found its way into the motor and decided to curl itself around the fan. The snake got as much of a surprise when the unit kicked on as I did when I opened that envelope and looked at the charges. Life in the country... it doesn't come cheap.
Because of all the rain, the humidity levels here have been ridiculous since we got home. So much for the good-hair days of the hills around Niagara Falls. The weather in Canada was unpredictable at best... in a 24-hr period, we had rain, a bit of sleet, and teeny snow flurries. Not exactly perfect weather for viewing the Falls, so we went back at the end of our trip when the weather had turned sunny and warm and Spring-like.
We seem to have a resident skunk here who has made his home underneath our gazebo. Before we left on our trip, I saw that skunk (actually quite beautiful) as he sashayed around the blooming iris plants. I thought that he was just passing through, smelling the flowers, and would soon be on his way. The first night we got home, I saw the skunk again, same place in the yard, just taking his time and picking up the pecans that dropped from the trees before Christmas. (There are a million pecans out there, the very small native Texas variety... way too small to bother shelling, so I leave them out there for the birds and squirrels, and it seems, the occasional skunk.)
The barn swallows were busy when we were gone... new babies have already left the nests, and old nests are again being renovated by adult birds. The nest that's over the side door of the garage has three little baby birds in it now... a nest that was able to be built there because my husband nailed up a little piece of wood for the two barn swallows that were desperately trying to affix a nest to that particular spot.
As always, no matter how much we enjoy a trip, coming home is the best part. Savannah was very happy to see us and now she is settling into a regular routine in her own home, rather than the routine at the 'camp.' One of our friends has already warned us that fireworks will be sold for the Memorial Day weekend coming up.... fireworks... exactly what caused the sonic boom that sent Savannah running for parts unknown on April 27th. We will have to be very vigilant this weekend. One lost-dog fiasco was enough for one life-time.
While we were gone, our area in the hills here had nearly 8 inches of rain. We came home to high grass, a filled pond, and flowers blooming with bright colors instead of just the little green leaves that were poking out of the dirt when we left.
In the stack of mail was the bill from the air-conditioning guy.... nearly $500 for repairs on the outside unit because a very long snake found its way into the motor and decided to curl itself around the fan. The snake got as much of a surprise when the unit kicked on as I did when I opened that envelope and looked at the charges. Life in the country... it doesn't come cheap.
Because of all the rain, the humidity levels here have been ridiculous since we got home. So much for the good-hair days of the hills around Niagara Falls. The weather in Canada was unpredictable at best... in a 24-hr period, we had rain, a bit of sleet, and teeny snow flurries. Not exactly perfect weather for viewing the Falls, so we went back at the end of our trip when the weather had turned sunny and warm and Spring-like.
We seem to have a resident skunk here who has made his home underneath our gazebo. Before we left on our trip, I saw that skunk (actually quite beautiful) as he sashayed around the blooming iris plants. I thought that he was just passing through, smelling the flowers, and would soon be on his way. The first night we got home, I saw the skunk again, same place in the yard, just taking his time and picking up the pecans that dropped from the trees before Christmas. (There are a million pecans out there, the very small native Texas variety... way too small to bother shelling, so I leave them out there for the birds and squirrels, and it seems, the occasional skunk.)
The barn swallows were busy when we were gone... new babies have already left the nests, and old nests are again being renovated by adult birds. The nest that's over the side door of the garage has three little baby birds in it now... a nest that was able to be built there because my husband nailed up a little piece of wood for the two barn swallows that were desperately trying to affix a nest to that particular spot.
As always, no matter how much we enjoy a trip, coming home is the best part. Savannah was very happy to see us and now she is settling into a regular routine in her own home, rather than the routine at the 'camp.' One of our friends has already warned us that fireworks will be sold for the Memorial Day weekend coming up.... fireworks... exactly what caused the sonic boom that sent Savannah running for parts unknown on April 27th. We will have to be very vigilant this weekend. One lost-dog fiasco was enough for one life-time.
Tuesday, May 10, 2016
A note from me...
To those of you wondering if Savannah's blog is about a real puppy... indeed it is. I could not have made this story up if I tried. If I had the technical ability to post a photo of Savannah and our cats here on this Blog page, I would do so, but my forte is writing, not picture-taking, and certainly not computers. Savannah's picture, however, is posted on my Pinterest page-- it's the cover photo on my board titled "Get Real... Get a Dog!" -- my Pinterest page is listed under my first name. Savannah also has a Facebook page--- Savannah Grace, with pictures posted there from her 'Lost Dog' posters.
I started Savannah's blog (A Puppy Named Savannah) on the day we brought her home on September 12th, 2015. Besides the fact that I tend to write everything down (and have for decades) I just had the feeling that this puppy would have a story to tell. I didn't know at the time how much of that story would be interesting enough to write about, but when I start something, I tend to see it through.
What originally began as a blog about raising a puppy turned into a stream of emotion-filled essays on how Savannah came into our life, disrupted and changed our life, and ultimately became the core of our life, most especially during the 12 days when she was lost. We don't know where she was during those days and we will probably never find out.
I know one thing... I will always remember the look on Savannah's face that Mother's Day morning when we found her sitting by our back door waiting for us to come home. Our puppy was as overwhelmed and as exhausted as we were after those awful days, and all she wanted was to be back with her family. Savannah seems to be fine and healthy after her adventure, although she has no interest in walking along our road now. When she goes down the porch steps, she heads straight for the backyard and does her 'business' quickly and then wants to come back into the house. I'm sure she will get her confidence back as the weeks go by.
To both dog-lovers and cat-people.... your pets depend on you for everything: for their shelter, their food, their safety, their health. They give us so much during the years that we have them, and yes, they can be both frustrating and rewarding, and along with the love they give, responsibility and effort and just plain work come along with those little (and big) furry packages. In our search for Savannah during the days she was lost, we saw so many unwanted and neglected dogs and cats. Please spay/neuter your house-pets, and please please please go to your local animal shelters if you're willing to accept the love and responsibility of a four-legged furry child. No matter how many years your cat or dog may live, they will never mature beyond the psychological capability of a two- or three-year-old child, and understanding that is so important in the way you care for them.
To anyone who has cats who come running to you when their names are called, and to everyone who is loved unconditionally by a dog, I dare you to find a stronger bond with another living breathing creature on this planet.
After the last excruciating twelve days, I am all word-ed out, written-out, and just flat-out emotionally exhausted. I do understand that many more news-worthy and earth-shattering events have been happening around the world during our 'lost dog' fiasco. Savannah being lost was just a minuscule blip on the radar screen of the universe, but Savannah is our blip and that's why we put the rest of the world on hold these past couple of weeks.
My blog statistics indicate that the number of readers on both Savannah's blog and my Sprinkles blog has increased dramatically in the last six months, and I truly thank all of you for reading. I'll be back here typing after a little while, but for right now, this writer just needs a blessed break.
I started Savannah's blog (A Puppy Named Savannah) on the day we brought her home on September 12th, 2015. Besides the fact that I tend to write everything down (and have for decades) I just had the feeling that this puppy would have a story to tell. I didn't know at the time how much of that story would be interesting enough to write about, but when I start something, I tend to see it through.
What originally began as a blog about raising a puppy turned into a stream of emotion-filled essays on how Savannah came into our life, disrupted and changed our life, and ultimately became the core of our life, most especially during the 12 days when she was lost. We don't know where she was during those days and we will probably never find out.
I know one thing... I will always remember the look on Savannah's face that Mother's Day morning when we found her sitting by our back door waiting for us to come home. Our puppy was as overwhelmed and as exhausted as we were after those awful days, and all she wanted was to be back with her family. Savannah seems to be fine and healthy after her adventure, although she has no interest in walking along our road now. When she goes down the porch steps, she heads straight for the backyard and does her 'business' quickly and then wants to come back into the house. I'm sure she will get her confidence back as the weeks go by.
To both dog-lovers and cat-people.... your pets depend on you for everything: for their shelter, their food, their safety, their health. They give us so much during the years that we have them, and yes, they can be both frustrating and rewarding, and along with the love they give, responsibility and effort and just plain work come along with those little (and big) furry packages. In our search for Savannah during the days she was lost, we saw so many unwanted and neglected dogs and cats. Please spay/neuter your house-pets, and please please please go to your local animal shelters if you're willing to accept the love and responsibility of a four-legged furry child. No matter how many years your cat or dog may live, they will never mature beyond the psychological capability of a two- or three-year-old child, and understanding that is so important in the way you care for them.
To anyone who has cats who come running to you when their names are called, and to everyone who is loved unconditionally by a dog, I dare you to find a stronger bond with another living breathing creature on this planet.
After the last excruciating twelve days, I am all word-ed out, written-out, and just flat-out emotionally exhausted. I do understand that many more news-worthy and earth-shattering events have been happening around the world during our 'lost dog' fiasco. Savannah being lost was just a minuscule blip on the radar screen of the universe, but Savannah is our blip and that's why we put the rest of the world on hold these past couple of weeks.
My blog statistics indicate that the number of readers on both Savannah's blog and my Sprinkles blog has increased dramatically in the last six months, and I truly thank all of you for reading. I'll be back here typing after a little while, but for right now, this writer just needs a blessed break.
Monday, May 9, 2016
Back home!
Savannah went missing on April 27th.... and came home yesterday, May 8th (Mother's Day). In an ironic twist, the neighbors who originally set off the fireworks that sent Savannah racing down our hill are the same neighbors who saw Savannah racing up our hill yesterday afternoon... trailing her 20-foot leash behind her and still wearing her collar and ID tags. My husband and I had been in town but were on our way home when we got the phone call from those neighbors and we rushed here to find Savannah on our porch, leaning up against the back door, dirty and exhausted, and overwhelmed by her adventure, I'm sure.
We have no idea where Savannah was for all of these days, but right now, she's home, she's safe, she doesn't seem to be hurt, and we're giving her some time to settle down before we take her to the vet for a look-see.
I have to say that if you're going to pick a country road to live on in the godforsaken woods, then pick a road with excellent neighbors. All of our friends here made Savannah's story their story, and for that we will always be grateful.
We have no idea where Savannah was for all of these days, but right now, she's home, she's safe, she doesn't seem to be hurt, and we're giving her some time to settle down before we take her to the vet for a look-see.
I have to say that if you're going to pick a country road to live on in the godforsaken woods, then pick a road with excellent neighbors. All of our friends here made Savannah's story their story, and for that we will always be grateful.
Saturday, May 7, 2016
Still missing...
.... Our dog Savannah is still missing. We have more than 200 fliers posted all over our town and the surrounding four towns. Not one 'I found your dog!' phone call, except from a very nice man who thought Savannah might be the dog that's been hanging around a gas station near his home for over a month. When I told him Savannah has been lost since April 27th, he told me that the gas station dog couldn't be mine and he would look around for Savannah where he lived and worked.
Lost-dog fliers are everywhere. I guess we expected to be inundated with phone calls, but we have been disappointed with the lack of response. No one has seen our dog... no one has found our dog.... we have been out looking for hours and hours, every day, every day.
I don't even have the heart to write here too much. I've been keeping up with my 'Sprinkles' blog and my 'A Puppy Named Savannah' blog. That's where to look for more details, and more of Savannah's story.
Life in the country. If I didn't hate it before, I surely hate it now.
Lost-dog fliers are everywhere. I guess we expected to be inundated with phone calls, but we have been disappointed with the lack of response. No one has seen our dog... no one has found our dog.... we have been out looking for hours and hours, every day, every day.
I don't even have the heart to write here too much. I've been keeping up with my 'Sprinkles' blog and my 'A Puppy Named Savannah' blog. That's where to look for more details, and more of Savannah's story.
Life in the country. If I didn't hate it before, I surely hate it now.
Monday, May 2, 2016
Life in the country...
....isn't what it's cracked up to be.
On April 27th, I was outside walking Savannah along the road and the new neighbors decided to set off cannon-esque fireworks in their field. The first one sounded like a sonic boom, and Savannah bolted, I fell forward onto the road and lost consciousness. When I woke up, Savannah's leash was not in my hand and the fireworks were still going off.
By the time I got my bloodied and bruised self to our porch, Savannah wasn't there, and wasn't anywhere in sight. Friends along the road came to our house and we searched for hours and we've been searching ever since. Fliers are up in not only our town but in three other towns nearby. My husband and I go out driving every day, every evening.... we're looking and calling her name and asking people if they've seen our dog. Friends along our road have been doing the same. The firework-neighbors haven't apologized, haven't helped, haven't even acknowledged what has happened because of their reckless, careless, thoughtless actions. Everyone out here in the country expects fireworks on July 4th and Christmas and New Year's Eve and we protect our pets accordingly. But at the end of April, on a warm and calm night, no one could have anticipated such noise along our road.
Today we had another country surprise... our air conditioning unit wasn't working properly so I called the company who services the system. The technician discovered a very long snake hanging out of the air conditioner. The front end of the snake was wrapped around the fan, the back end was hanging out of the unit. Needless to say, the snake was killed when the system turned itself on, and now we have to replace the fan and the motor. The technician says this is common out here in the hills. (Another thing no one tells you when you say you want to move to the country.)
I am heart-sick over the senseless loss of our dog. My bruises will heal with time, my heart will take longer. I cannot be forgiving towards those neighbors, and for that I'm sorry, but that's that.
On April 27th, I was outside walking Savannah along the road and the new neighbors decided to set off cannon-esque fireworks in their field. The first one sounded like a sonic boom, and Savannah bolted, I fell forward onto the road and lost consciousness. When I woke up, Savannah's leash was not in my hand and the fireworks were still going off.
By the time I got my bloodied and bruised self to our porch, Savannah wasn't there, and wasn't anywhere in sight. Friends along the road came to our house and we searched for hours and we've been searching ever since. Fliers are up in not only our town but in three other towns nearby. My husband and I go out driving every day, every evening.... we're looking and calling her name and asking people if they've seen our dog. Friends along our road have been doing the same. The firework-neighbors haven't apologized, haven't helped, haven't even acknowledged what has happened because of their reckless, careless, thoughtless actions. Everyone out here in the country expects fireworks on July 4th and Christmas and New Year's Eve and we protect our pets accordingly. But at the end of April, on a warm and calm night, no one could have anticipated such noise along our road.
Today we had another country surprise... our air conditioning unit wasn't working properly so I called the company who services the system. The technician discovered a very long snake hanging out of the air conditioner. The front end of the snake was wrapped around the fan, the back end was hanging out of the unit. Needless to say, the snake was killed when the system turned itself on, and now we have to replace the fan and the motor. The technician says this is common out here in the hills. (Another thing no one tells you when you say you want to move to the country.)
I am heart-sick over the senseless loss of our dog. My bruises will heal with time, my heart will take longer. I cannot be forgiving towards those neighbors, and for that I'm sorry, but that's that.
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