In the days following Rookie's passing, we discovered a website on the internet with a webcam aimed into the whelping bin of 2 litters of adorable golden doodles. Watching them frolic, fight, sleep - basically wreak havoc in their little world - went a long way to healing our hearts, and softening them, I suspect.
It also lead me to my own brainstorm. I could set up my webcam to record what Ernie does while we are out. Since I have been so concerned about him, actually the house, I decided to give it a go. We planned an afternoon outdoor workout. E running, me biking. The perfect opportunity to record our little tazmanian devil. I carefully set up my laptop in a strategic position so I could attempt to catch as much footage as possible. We were gone for all of 40 minutes.
After watching the video, I almost wish I hadn't done it. Ernie was completely unsettled. He watched us leave. Watched the door for a very short period of time and then ran all over the house looking for us. No one ever said he was bright. Then he came back to the living room and stood staring at the door....barking. He barked the entire 40 minutes. He would pause ever so slightly and then start right back up. In the entirety, he sat down for less than 1 minute. It was very disheartening and not what I was hoping for. More proof that Ernie needs a buddy.
Friday, March 26, 2010
I Am No Spring Chicken.
Any illusion that I was fooling myself with about being 20ish has quickly shattered my reality. I am no spring chicken anymore. On Wednesday I painted the living room. On Wednesday night and Thursday, I paid the price for painting the living room. AND on Thursday, I repainted the living room because I HATED the colour. My own fault. I couldn't find a colour at the store I wanted to buy my paint from. Their paint is a higher quality and generally has great coverage so you can complete your job with only one coat. So, I justified spending more on a can of paint...or two. I found a paint chip from another store that I loved, and added it to the collection of chips I have (a past time of mine...lol!....story for another day), and had the expensive store colour match it. Well, technology is not what it is advertised as. What was supposed to come out as a kind of sandy gold, a warm enveloping colour that would brighten as the sun came through the windows, turned into a taupe-beige. A nice colour but not what I was looking for and definitely not what I took to the store. Inside the store it looked off, but outside the mistake was very evident. What is it with interior lights and colours that they are so miserably off? To make matters worse, I ended up having to do two coats.
In the end, I gave the colour an honest chance. I painted one wall, then another and another and I still hated it. By the time I was done, the sun was gone so I opted to wait until the morning to make my final decision. While it wasn't unanimous (E loved the colour?!), I knew I couldn't live with it. And I am so glad I bit the bullet...stuck to my guns...whatever you want to call it, but the new colour looks great. Sunny, cheery, compliments the couches....all good things. Oh, and by the way, I actually went to the cheaper store and bought the cheaper paint and it only took one coat to cover both the original colour, which remained on the majority of the walls, and the first colour I painted. It's actually not just in my..um, our living room. Since we have an open concept, living room, kitchen, eating nook, front entrance and a common area outside of the bedrooms and bathroom, the colour will carry on throughout. I figured there are more than a dozen walls....and I am just about done.
The point to my rambling....I could barely walk after the first day of painting. When have I gotten so old? It could be from sitting on the couch for the last three years, intermittently putting myself through rigorous workout programs like P-90X. You trying progressing from a couch potato to instantly trying to run a marathon and see how your old body handles it. Anyway, after one full day of paint, countless squats and oddly angled lunges, paired with inappropriate bending at the waist, not with the knees...and of course, combine all of that with a chronic bad back, neck and a gimped up hip, all of which are under chiropractic care, and you can only imagine the agony I was in. It felt like I had done a 5 hour workout, or one hour of plyometrics. Every time I rolled over in bed, the pain would wake me up. This was a rude awakening that I am not the spry young woman I once was. Years of sports, car accidents, injuries and age have taken a sad toll on my body. I guess those grey hairs I have started to sprout are well-earned. I am no spring chicken anymore. At least I'm not as old as my brother!
Good thing that time heals all wounds. I am feeling somewhat better today, only feeling the aches in my legs when I squat, not with each step I take. And this painting project is just about done. Perhaps another day, and it will be complete and I'll be on to the next project. I'll post some pictures when it is all reassembled.
Here's the before (taken on our househunting trip)
These are the during...Sorry, the house is never pretty during,although I will tidy it up a bit after I finish blogging. A few days mess and some sore old bones goes a long way toward making a house a home.
In the end, I gave the colour an honest chance. I painted one wall, then another and another and I still hated it. By the time I was done, the sun was gone so I opted to wait until the morning to make my final decision. While it wasn't unanimous (E loved the colour?!), I knew I couldn't live with it. And I am so glad I bit the bullet...stuck to my guns...whatever you want to call it, but the new colour looks great. Sunny, cheery, compliments the couches....all good things. Oh, and by the way, I actually went to the cheaper store and bought the cheaper paint and it only took one coat to cover both the original colour, which remained on the majority of the walls, and the first colour I painted. It's actually not just in my..um, our living room. Since we have an open concept, living room, kitchen, eating nook, front entrance and a common area outside of the bedrooms and bathroom, the colour will carry on throughout. I figured there are more than a dozen walls....and I am just about done.
The point to my rambling....I could barely walk after the first day of painting. When have I gotten so old? It could be from sitting on the couch for the last three years, intermittently putting myself through rigorous workout programs like P-90X. You trying progressing from a couch potato to instantly trying to run a marathon and see how your old body handles it. Anyway, after one full day of paint, countless squats and oddly angled lunges, paired with inappropriate bending at the waist, not with the knees...and of course, combine all of that with a chronic bad back, neck and a gimped up hip, all of which are under chiropractic care, and you can only imagine the agony I was in. It felt like I had done a 5 hour workout, or one hour of plyometrics. Every time I rolled over in bed, the pain would wake me up. This was a rude awakening that I am not the spry young woman I once was. Years of sports, car accidents, injuries and age have taken a sad toll on my body. I guess those grey hairs I have started to sprout are well-earned. I am no spring chicken anymore. At least I'm not as old as my brother!
Good thing that time heals all wounds. I am feeling somewhat better today, only feeling the aches in my legs when I squat, not with each step I take. And this painting project is just about done. Perhaps another day, and it will be complete and I'll be on to the next project. I'll post some pictures when it is all reassembled.
Here's the before (taken on our househunting trip)
These are the during...Sorry, the house is never pretty during,although I will tidy it up a bit after I finish blogging. A few days mess and some sore old bones goes a long way toward making a house a home.
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Returning to the Scene of the Crime.
On Monday, Ernie had an appointment at the Atlantic Veterinary College to check on his progress. What this also meant was that we had to return to the scene of the crime. It was the first time back since we had Rookie put down and I was not looking forward to going back by myself. I was dreading passing the room where we spent our last moments with Rookie but it was inevitable. Thank goodness, without asking, Ev said he would meet me there. It was a great distraction, much needed!
While we were sitting in the waiting room, one of the veterinary students who was in the room with us during Rookie's passing recognized us...okay Ev (he kinda sticks out like a sore thumb and the uniform doesn't help much either), but was kind enough to come over to see how we are coping. As a little bit of boredom set in, my dark sense of humour emerged, and don't know if you recall that Rookie was offered, and gladly accepted a last meal from the staff there. So I took the opportunity to tell Ernie, if they ever offer you a meal of canned dog food here, run away as fast as you can. It is never a good sign!
They ran some blood work and took a urine sample which is quite a feat in itself. You would think with all of the modern inventions and technology in this world that someone would have developed an appropriate method to collect a sample from a pet. The student vet took him for a walk, in the rain, in the courtyard outside the hospital so we had a front row seat to the show. Imagine. Little Ernie, who maybe stands a foot off the ground, but walks at a fair clip, being followed around by someone carrying a plastic bag to try and catch his pee. He pees so quick and it is so far down to collect, that by the time she'd bend over, he would be done. And then he spotted Ev and I inside staring out at him, giggling. He stopped dead in his tracks. So as not to embarrass the student, and to allow Ernie to do his business, we retreated. Besides we were making friends with Binky the pug.
Once Ernie had coughed up an appropriate sample he came out to the lobby to sit with us for a few minute and as he was checking out Binky, what comes around the corner but another little brussels griffon. Oscar! He was very sweet. He was quite a bit bigger than Ernie. Double his weight, but sweet nonetheless. For anyone who knows Ernie, he is not much of a dog's dog. The only dog he really felt secure around was Rookie. But Ernie greeted Oscar like they were long-lost brothers. It's not very often you get two of these adorable fellas in the same spot at the same time and they enjoyed each other as much as they could until Oscar had to go see the vet and Ernie had to settle his account at the front desk.
While we were standing there, the vet tech that was with us when Rookie left us approached to gush about Ernie's adorability (I do agree) and how much everyone there loves him which is not lost on us. There is always a small audience when Ernie is at the clinic. After the crowd cleared and it was just her and I, she quietly approached me and asked how we were doing. She respectfully said, "I didn't want you to think I didn't know who you were, I just wanted to be respectful of your loss." The rest of our discussion will remain between her and I. I think some doctors out there could learn a thing or two about compassion from the veterinary staff at the clinic. Her words meant more than anyone could know. Not only are they caring for our furry babies, but they are also dealing with the emotions of their owners.
Oh...and the good news...later in the day, we received a call that Ernie's test results were fantabulous. His blood and urine were both in great shape considering he's functioning on one kidney. The vet even said that she was overjoyed with how well he is doing considering his situation. I'll take that! A clean bill of health and a pass on vets offices for another 3 months! Good job, Noodles!
While we were sitting in the waiting room, one of the veterinary students who was in the room with us during Rookie's passing recognized us...okay Ev (he kinda sticks out like a sore thumb and the uniform doesn't help much either), but was kind enough to come over to see how we are coping. As a little bit of boredom set in, my dark sense of humour emerged, and don't know if you recall that Rookie was offered, and gladly accepted a last meal from the staff there. So I took the opportunity to tell Ernie, if they ever offer you a meal of canned dog food here, run away as fast as you can. It is never a good sign!
They ran some blood work and took a urine sample which is quite a feat in itself. You would think with all of the modern inventions and technology in this world that someone would have developed an appropriate method to collect a sample from a pet. The student vet took him for a walk, in the rain, in the courtyard outside the hospital so we had a front row seat to the show. Imagine. Little Ernie, who maybe stands a foot off the ground, but walks at a fair clip, being followed around by someone carrying a plastic bag to try and catch his pee. He pees so quick and it is so far down to collect, that by the time she'd bend over, he would be done. And then he spotted Ev and I inside staring out at him, giggling. He stopped dead in his tracks. So as not to embarrass the student, and to allow Ernie to do his business, we retreated. Besides we were making friends with Binky the pug.
Once Ernie had coughed up an appropriate sample he came out to the lobby to sit with us for a few minute and as he was checking out Binky, what comes around the corner but another little brussels griffon. Oscar! He was very sweet. He was quite a bit bigger than Ernie. Double his weight, but sweet nonetheless. For anyone who knows Ernie, he is not much of a dog's dog. The only dog he really felt secure around was Rookie. But Ernie greeted Oscar like they were long-lost brothers. It's not very often you get two of these adorable fellas in the same spot at the same time and they enjoyed each other as much as they could until Oscar had to go see the vet and Ernie had to settle his account at the front desk.
While we were standing there, the vet tech that was with us when Rookie left us approached to gush about Ernie's adorability (I do agree) and how much everyone there loves him which is not lost on us. There is always a small audience when Ernie is at the clinic. After the crowd cleared and it was just her and I, she quietly approached me and asked how we were doing. She respectfully said, "I didn't want you to think I didn't know who you were, I just wanted to be respectful of your loss." The rest of our discussion will remain between her and I. I think some doctors out there could learn a thing or two about compassion from the veterinary staff at the clinic. Her words meant more than anyone could know. Not only are they caring for our furry babies, but they are also dealing with the emotions of their owners.
Oh...and the good news...later in the day, we received a call that Ernie's test results were fantabulous. His blood and urine were both in great shape considering he's functioning on one kidney. The vet even said that she was overjoyed with how well he is doing considering his situation. I'll take that! A clean bill of health and a pass on vets offices for another 3 months! Good job, Noodles!
Friday, March 19, 2010
Someone thinks the sun shines out of his arse.
Since our collections of seedlings is growing daily, last night we assembled a shelving unit to put in front of our french door so that ALL of our new babies can have their equal share of the sunshine.
Look what else we planted.
I can't be upset with him. It's actually his sunny spot that he is drawn to every morning. The plants came second.
So when I say ALL of our babies, I mean ALL of them. When E came downstairs this morning and saw this he said, "Even the sun shines on a dog's ass". I'd never heard this saying before, but it sounds like a good one. You should google it;)
Here's how some of the other babies are progressing...hot peppers & wisteria
And remember my orchid I showed you a few weeks ago. It now has 6 blooms on it with another 4 buds ready to bloom soon.
Hope you are all having a great day! Happy Friday!
Look what else we planted.
I can't be upset with him. It's actually his sunny spot that he is drawn to every morning. The plants came second.
So when I say ALL of our babies, I mean ALL of them. When E came downstairs this morning and saw this he said, "Even the sun shines on a dog's ass". I'd never heard this saying before, but it sounds like a good one. You should google it;)
Here's how some of the other babies are progressing...hot peppers & wisteria
And remember my orchid I showed you a few weeks ago. It now has 6 blooms on it with another 4 buds ready to bloom soon.
Hope you are all having a great day! Happy Friday!
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
The Mighty Squirrel Hunter
Living in a fairly remote locale, surrounded by trees, ocean and a small human population, we are lucky enough to also have many furry and feathered neighbours. In the Fall, we invested in a bird feeder that was advertised...no, touted as SQUIRREL PROOF. We originally set it up on our porch so we could observe the birds feeding from the comfort of our living room. A great plan at first thought, however we underestimated the popularity of FREE bird food and the darn blue jays were there night and day. Not only were they incredibly noisy, and thus interrupting my beauty sleep early in the morning, but they were also making a horrid mess with the food and sadly, using our porch as their latrine.
On the off chance that a squirrel has made a hasty retreat across the span of the deck instead of down the short set of stairs, you can see Ernie scrambling after the squirrel’s shadow. The squirrel runs the outside of the deck and Ernie runs the inside. Unfortunately Ernie’s powers of observation are not as keen as his brother’s were in his prime, but he still gives the squirrels a run for their money and returns to the house, self satisfied and proud that he has earned his keep for another day. I swear we can hear Rookie from doggy heaven, telling his little “grasshopper” how proud he is of him. Rookie, ya’ done good, schoolin’ your little bro! In the true meaning of the term, Ernie has evolved into a genuine Squirrel Hunter. In fact, I have the window open as I'm typing and can hear the squirrels chattering right now and my ever faithful friend, who is in his usual position, glued to my hip is sitting up with his ears all perky staring at the window and going a tad nutty because he wants to be out there chasing the varmints away.
Kim.
postscript....Ernie says, please excuse his hairdo. He just got shaved at the barbers and I beg you to forgive my cackle and snort in Take 2. I couldn't help myself watching Ernie gnaw down on the siding.
We therefore opted to relocate the feeder, to a slightly less visible location, beside the front steps of our house but on the grass hanging from a stand anchored into the ground. This way we could still fill the feeder from the porch, but it gave the birds enough distance from us and, any mess they made fell to the ground below.
What we didn’t anticipate was that as the weather grew colder and the snow started to cover the ground, the feeder would become easy fodder for the desperate and destitute squirrels, after all, we had the infamous Mark Cullen’s Squirrel Proof Bird Feeder. And, we weren’t too concerned about the squirrels as there were only so many weeks until the squirrels would hibernate for the winter. They do hibernate, right? Apparently not!
The location of the feeder was too much of a temptation for the squirrels and they have easily made their way into it. Case in point.
They had burrowed little tunnels from the trees in our yard, through the snow right up to the deck where they would scale the railing and leap the two feet to the feeder. They even constructed a tunnel system through the snow on the deck. And to make matters worse, we quickly discovered the reason why we had a collection of “ghost pooh” surrounding the foundation of our house. (Ghost pooh, for those that don’t know is those little pieces of white foam that you usually find packed around parcels - it is also used to insulate your home.) Apparently the squirrels found a convenient escape hatch, should a predator come between them and the trees. They would clamber up the concrete foundation and hide in between the vinyl siding and the house until the coast was clear enough for them to high-tail it back to the forest.
We considered relocating the feeder and worse yet, blocking the squirrel’s access to their safe haven with chicken wire but quickly discovered, we already had the answer to our squirrel busting issues....The Squirrel Hunter Version 2.0. You see, The Squirrel Hunter, Version 1.0 didn’t work so well anymore. He was deaf, he was half-blind, he couldn’t run anymore and he certainly couldn’t stand on his hind legs and scale a tree like he used to. Yes, Rookie’s squirrel hunting days were far behind him. Although, we were overjoyed that in his final days he had one more up close and personal encounter with his furry little nemesis. One day, as he made his way to his favourite stooping spot on the deck to sun himself, a somewhat distracted squirrel did not anticipate Rookie's approach, and they pretty much came nose to nose. The squirrel made a hasty retreat for the corner of the house and since Rookie was closer to the house than the squirrel, the squirrel had to practically run across Rookie’s paws to get there. There was no chance Rookie was going to catch the squirrel, but he put his biggest effort forward, and gave chase the two or three feet the squirrel had to clear before making it into its safety net. Well, you have never seen a dog as proud as Rookie was that day, and he let us know by letting out a boisterous, ear piercing bark followed by a self satisfied wag of the tail and that look that asked, “I did good, right Dad? Huh? Huh? I did good?” One more last memory of our old fella that warms my heart.
So Ladies and Gentlemen, without further ado, I am pleased to introduce you to The Squirrel Hunter, Version 2.0. More compact, more fuel effecient, less walking, its only pitfall, requires more loving and a heck of a lot more maintenance. It is none other than... Ernie! Slightly more agile than the old version. Definitely small enough to get into the unattainable spaces Rookie was never capable of accessing. He has assumed Rookie’s plight, and how! He had some big paws to fill. See for yourself.
The Squirrel Hunter...Take 1
Not to be outdone by, The Squirrel Hunter, Take 2
On the off chance that a squirrel has made a hasty retreat across the span of the deck instead of down the short set of stairs, you can see Ernie scrambling after the squirrel’s shadow. The squirrel runs the outside of the deck and Ernie runs the inside. Unfortunately Ernie’s powers of observation are not as keen as his brother’s were in his prime, but he still gives the squirrels a run for their money and returns to the house, self satisfied and proud that he has earned his keep for another day. I swear we can hear Rookie from doggy heaven, telling his little “grasshopper” how proud he is of him. Rookie, ya’ done good, schoolin’ your little bro! In the true meaning of the term, Ernie has evolved into a genuine Squirrel Hunter. In fact, I have the window open as I'm typing and can hear the squirrels chattering right now and my ever faithful friend, who is in his usual position, glued to my hip is sitting up with his ears all perky staring at the window and going a tad nutty because he wants to be out there chasing the varmints away.
Kim.
postscript....Ernie says, please excuse his hairdo. He just got shaved at the barbers and I beg you to forgive my cackle and snort in Take 2. I couldn't help myself watching Ernie gnaw down on the siding.
Monday, March 15, 2010
Not for the faint of heart....
Consider yourselves warned.
It`s been too long since I blogged but a lot has been going on here - planting, roadtrips, squirrel hunting....and it appears that the notorious serial bird killer has moved to Stratford. We were kinda hoping that the bad karma that has followed us for years would remain in the North but alas.....
Wondering what I`m talking about? A little history. My poor husband has been the recipient of far too many birds committing suicide on the front of his vehicles. I, seriously, have never in my life seen as much poultry (is that the correct term?) carnage as I have since hooking up with him. Example One: While driving to visit my parents, this bird darted out in front of his truck and bang! Of course he quickly attempted to tell me that the bird flew away. Half an hour or so later, we arrive at my parents, exchange hugs and kisses and bring in our bags. The hubby goes out to "get some fresh air" and opens up the hood of his truck. Lo and behold there is a woodpecker lodged, in an unnatural position, beside his headlight....dead. At least he thought so, because as he finishes dislodging the thing, it suddenly opens its eyes and flies away!
Example Two: We are driving over the mountain pass from Grand Forks, BC into Kelowna, BC. There has been fresh snowfall and the roads are icy and rather precarious driving conditions. It's also a beautiful glorious sunny day so the glare off the icy roads is making it somewhat difficult to see. E is driving up a slippery hill and as he reaches the peak, at a blind spot, there on the road right before us is an innocent family of chickadees eating the salt off of the highway. Needless to say, it was too dangerous for E to avoid hitting them and it was far too late for them to get out of the way.
Example Three: We are driving home through the Joshua Tree National Forest with my parents. We had spent a couple of hours taking photographs and waited long enough to capture the sunset before heading home. Sure enough, BAMB! We hit a bird. When we stop to gas up, we can see the other people at the station looking at the front of the car so my Dad gets out and picks out the remains of an adorable miniature owl. Okay, so, it wasn't E doing the driving that time but he was in the car.
Example Four: While in San Diego last winter we went to Sea World. (This story might not be suitable given the recent passing of a killer whale trainer). After watching the scheduled show, we are standing on the top level of an observation area that views the behind the scenes tanks and see two killer whales - a young one and an older who appears to be playing with a dead fish. The elder continually picks the fish up in its mouth, promptly spits it out a couple of feet ahead of itself and dives under the water to pick it back up, then continues the process. After a few rounds, the elder allows the youngster to have a go and then takes over again, this time, it launches the fish out a foot or so farther than before while the young whale swims alongside.
In addition to the the human audience, there is also a flock of seagulls precariously perched along the sides of the tank. The "free meal" is causing quite a frenzy amongst the gulls sitting on the sidelines. They are becoming increasingly more vocal and are visibly aroused, vying for position...dare I say...battling out for an appropriate pecking order.
As we continue to observe, a father is standing beside us with his young daughter and they are ranting and raving about the show we just watched. She informs him she wants to be a whale trainer when she gets older. Then they start having a discussion about what the whales are doing with the fish. And wouldn't you know it. Before I can turn to share my thoughts with them that we are bearing witness to the wise old whale teaching the youngster how to hunt, the whale spits the fish out, a seagull goes for it and dive bombs the dead fish and the whale dives down on top of the gull, pulling it deep under water. Shock immediately hits the group of people gathered there as we attempt to absorb what we just bore witness to and I'm sure we all were secretly hoping the bird would fly out of the depths of the pool, alas.....
Apparently, the early bird doesn't get the worm in this case!
The two of them made a bit of a game out of the carcass. They'd pull it down under water and then let it float up to the surface where it bobbed around for all to see and eventually they grew bored, lesson over, they went their separate ways, abandoning the dead gull. Some last supper, eh? As the recent event has reminded us, so did this event, you can take an animal out of the wild but you sure can't take the wild out of the animal.
Oh, and the little girl, visibly shaken by the events, quickly recanted her new careet choice.
Okay, so that example doesn't entail driving but Ev was still present.
This brings us to yesterday. We had plans to go to the country yesterday to pick up some bales of straw for our garden but the kind gentlemen at the farm said we couldn't come out until 3pm. So, we decided to go for a drive because it was an amazingly beautiful day. We packed Ernie into the truck and with lofty plans, we both packed our camera gear. Ernie entertained us for the first couple of hours, running back and forth between windows, barking at cows, barking at people walking their dogs. As we continued driving, we realized we had been a bit too ambitious because we ended up too far away with too little time to take photos and get to the farm to meet Fred, the farmer so we cut our trip short. We had a quick but memorable visit with Fred and his very old dog, Penny. Fred, who has to be in his 70s, crawled up into the loft of the barn and threw the bales down to Ev, who passed them to me in the back of the truck where I strategically stacked them. When Fred met Ernie, it was love at first sight. He was so taken with him that he ran....yes, ran, to his son's house, which is on the same farm, to rile up his daughter-in-law to come out and meet Ernie because he knew she would fall in love with him, and of course, she did. While E & Fred carried on their conversation, she told me that she had actually been asleep when Fred came a-knockin'. Poor girl. That was my cue to start heading home.
As we waned our way home down the rough country roads, out of nowhere, a bird flies out in front of Ev's truck and BANG! Oh No! Not again. I felt instantly sick. My emotions flipped uncontrollably between trying not to cry and not to laugh. Poor E! As we came into more traffic, we could see that people were looking at the front of Ev's truck as they approached us. That can't be a good sign, right?
When we got home, E parked on the side of the road and as I started to walk toward the front of the truck, their was a man walking his dog approaching. As I turned the corner, there it was, awkwardly protruding from the front grill of Ev's truck. A macabre sight. The man and I both spoke at the same time. His comment. Oh-oh! Mine... Oh-no!
Dang! I had to get away from that as soon as possible and when E eventually came into the house, we determined E's karma is not the best. We figure that when he dies and goes to heaven, there will be a flock of birds waiting for him so they can peck him. Like he isn't hen-pecked enough by me.
Hopefully I haven't offended you too much. Come back tomorrow...subject....the squirrel hunter.
It`s been too long since I blogged but a lot has been going on here - planting, roadtrips, squirrel hunting....and it appears that the notorious serial bird killer has moved to Stratford. We were kinda hoping that the bad karma that has followed us for years would remain in the North but alas.....
Wondering what I`m talking about? A little history. My poor husband has been the recipient of far too many birds committing suicide on the front of his vehicles. I, seriously, have never in my life seen as much poultry (is that the correct term?) carnage as I have since hooking up with him. Example One: While driving to visit my parents, this bird darted out in front of his truck and bang! Of course he quickly attempted to tell me that the bird flew away. Half an hour or so later, we arrive at my parents, exchange hugs and kisses and bring in our bags. The hubby goes out to "get some fresh air" and opens up the hood of his truck. Lo and behold there is a woodpecker lodged, in an unnatural position, beside his headlight....dead. At least he thought so, because as he finishes dislodging the thing, it suddenly opens its eyes and flies away!
Example Two: We are driving over the mountain pass from Grand Forks, BC into Kelowna, BC. There has been fresh snowfall and the roads are icy and rather precarious driving conditions. It's also a beautiful glorious sunny day so the glare off the icy roads is making it somewhat difficult to see. E is driving up a slippery hill and as he reaches the peak, at a blind spot, there on the road right before us is an innocent family of chickadees eating the salt off of the highway. Needless to say, it was too dangerous for E to avoid hitting them and it was far too late for them to get out of the way.
Example Three: We are driving home through the Joshua Tree National Forest with my parents. We had spent a couple of hours taking photographs and waited long enough to capture the sunset before heading home. Sure enough, BAMB! We hit a bird. When we stop to gas up, we can see the other people at the station looking at the front of the car so my Dad gets out and picks out the remains of an adorable miniature owl. Okay, so, it wasn't E doing the driving that time but he was in the car.
Example Four: While in San Diego last winter we went to Sea World. (This story might not be suitable given the recent passing of a killer whale trainer). After watching the scheduled show, we are standing on the top level of an observation area that views the behind the scenes tanks and see two killer whales - a young one and an older who appears to be playing with a dead fish. The elder continually picks the fish up in its mouth, promptly spits it out a couple of feet ahead of itself and dives under the water to pick it back up, then continues the process. After a few rounds, the elder allows the youngster to have a go and then takes over again, this time, it launches the fish out a foot or so farther than before while the young whale swims alongside.
In addition to the the human audience, there is also a flock of seagulls precariously perched along the sides of the tank. The "free meal" is causing quite a frenzy amongst the gulls sitting on the sidelines. They are becoming increasingly more vocal and are visibly aroused, vying for position...dare I say...battling out for an appropriate pecking order.
As we continue to observe, a father is standing beside us with his young daughter and they are ranting and raving about the show we just watched. She informs him she wants to be a whale trainer when she gets older. Then they start having a discussion about what the whales are doing with the fish. And wouldn't you know it. Before I can turn to share my thoughts with them that we are bearing witness to the wise old whale teaching the youngster how to hunt, the whale spits the fish out, a seagull goes for it and dive bombs the dead fish and the whale dives down on top of the gull, pulling it deep under water. Shock immediately hits the group of people gathered there as we attempt to absorb what we just bore witness to and I'm sure we all were secretly hoping the bird would fly out of the depths of the pool, alas.....
Apparently, the early bird doesn't get the worm in this case!
The two of them made a bit of a game out of the carcass. They'd pull it down under water and then let it float up to the surface where it bobbed around for all to see and eventually they grew bored, lesson over, they went their separate ways, abandoning the dead gull. Some last supper, eh? As the recent event has reminded us, so did this event, you can take an animal out of the wild but you sure can't take the wild out of the animal.
Oh, and the little girl, visibly shaken by the events, quickly recanted her new careet choice.
Okay, so that example doesn't entail driving but Ev was still present.
This brings us to yesterday. We had plans to go to the country yesterday to pick up some bales of straw for our garden but the kind gentlemen at the farm said we couldn't come out until 3pm. So, we decided to go for a drive because it was an amazingly beautiful day. We packed Ernie into the truck and with lofty plans, we both packed our camera gear. Ernie entertained us for the first couple of hours, running back and forth between windows, barking at cows, barking at people walking their dogs. As we continued driving, we realized we had been a bit too ambitious because we ended up too far away with too little time to take photos and get to the farm to meet Fred, the farmer so we cut our trip short. We had a quick but memorable visit with Fred and his very old dog, Penny. Fred, who has to be in his 70s, crawled up into the loft of the barn and threw the bales down to Ev, who passed them to me in the back of the truck where I strategically stacked them. When Fred met Ernie, it was love at first sight. He was so taken with him that he ran....yes, ran, to his son's house, which is on the same farm, to rile up his daughter-in-law to come out and meet Ernie because he knew she would fall in love with him, and of course, she did. While E & Fred carried on their conversation, she told me that she had actually been asleep when Fred came a-knockin'. Poor girl. That was my cue to start heading home.
As we waned our way home down the rough country roads, out of nowhere, a bird flies out in front of Ev's truck and BANG! Oh No! Not again. I felt instantly sick. My emotions flipped uncontrollably between trying not to cry and not to laugh. Poor E! As we came into more traffic, we could see that people were looking at the front of Ev's truck as they approached us. That can't be a good sign, right?
When we got home, E parked on the side of the road and as I started to walk toward the front of the truck, their was a man walking his dog approaching. As I turned the corner, there it was, awkwardly protruding from the front grill of Ev's truck. A macabre sight. The man and I both spoke at the same time. His comment. Oh-oh! Mine... Oh-no!
Dang! I had to get away from that as soon as possible and when E eventually came into the house, we determined E's karma is not the best. We figure that when he dies and goes to heaven, there will be a flock of birds waiting for him so they can peck him. Like he isn't hen-pecked enough by me.
Hopefully I haven't offended you too much. Come back tomorrow...subject....the squirrel hunter.
Monday, March 8, 2010
A Bad Horror Flick....
Have you heard of this odd phenomenon that takes place in Charlottetown during the cold months of the year. As Fall began, I started noticing that every day, around the same time, there were huge numbers of crows flying overhead and they were all headed the same direction. It became so that I would take the boys for their walk about the same time each day, just so I could watch the crows fly and wondered where they were all headed. Since Ev was headed for work around the same time, I tried to encourage him to follow them, but his mind was elsewhere on his journey into town and he'd forget. It seemed to start as the sun was making its daily descent and would last for several hours until the sky went dark. No matter what the weather, those birds were determined. Some days the wind would be on their side and they appeared to float threw the sky, while others, the wind would violently throw them about.
Now I don't know if you have one of these members in your family, but I do and his name is DAD! For numerous years, every time we would be sitting around discussing some trivial event, or if he wanted to know odd morsel of information that none of us knew the answer his reply was, "Google it!" So smart for someone who refused to attempt to even try surfing the web. (Glad to report that we have him trained up now. Who ever said you can't teach an OLD dog new tricks?) Heeding my father's wise words, I googled the odd behaviour of the crows and discovered that the crows were flying from all over the island to roost at Victoria Park which is located in downtown Charlottetown. Their odd ritual starts in the Fall season and continues until Spring time when they apparently find something better to do but never to be deterred, they faithfully return when Fall is in the air.
You have to wonder, are they just like us? Do they head out for a day of work and return home at night to their loved ones to discuss the events of their day? Do they sit on the same perch each night? Do they roost with the same crows day-in, day-out, or do they hang out with a different crowd every night? Did I mention that it is estmated there are some 10,000 crows migrating downtown each evening and that they are not isolated to the park? I do know that some citizens of Charlottetown are none too impressed. I'm sure I wouldn't be either if my car was parked underneath their perch for the evening.
Out of curiousity we drove to the park one freezing cold winter evening and watched the show. It was an unimagineable scene and I wish I had taken better pictures and a video clip but it was freezing cold (says me who lived in the Arctic for over 3 years) and difficult to take pictures in the ever changing twilight. Of course the other thing the video would have captured was the incredible noise. It's hard to imagine how loud 10,000 crows chattering sounds like, but, I dare say, it is a CAW-CAW-phony of disproportionate measure - it is almost deafening. Everytime my flash on my camera went off, it disrupted them and would set off an even louder disgruntled discussion amongst them.
I know I'm not doing this scene justice and describing it is making me regret not capturing the scene in a more memorable fashion. It's also making me want to revisit the scene...hmmmm....wonder what the hubby has planned for the evening? Perhaps he'll read my blog and I won't even have to ask.
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