Monday, January 7, 2013

Misleading Little Boogers




Hummingbirds. What neat little creatures. By the end of summer I have so many hummingbirds I have to have two feeders. One on my front porch and one on my back.  Hummingbirds seem so serene and peaceful and ummmmm.......misleading.  Hummingbirds are extremely territorial, viscious little fighters. Watching them go at it is like having a free pay per view boxing match between Manny Pacquiao and Juan Manuel Marquez or a UFC fight between Ortiz and Liddell or watching Shea Weber slam Zetterberg's head into the boards during the Stanley Cup Playoffs.  The only difference is the entertainment value.  

When my hummingbirds fight I get mad and I feel like a teacher having to separate kids on a playground.  Birdwatching is supposed to be relaxing however in the fowl world it's not going to be that way with hummingbirds.  Maybe I need to switch what kind of birds to feed this year. Oh wait. I have had thistle bags for finches but their bright yellow feathers drew in their chief enemy, a Cooper's Hawk.  Drawing the song birds in also draws in predators.  But I love birds of prey as well.  Ahhhh, nature.

Cooper's Hawk on our front porch on the lookout for dinner:


Barn Cat Judy


We had to put our old barn cat down New Years Eve. Judy was 16 or 17 years old. She was a neat, extremely talkative, weird, strange, interesting cat. For the past 6 years or so, much to Chris's dismay, she liked to use the bathroom on our barn roof.  I feel bad that I didn't put her to sleep a long time ago but it's a hard thing to decide.




I wrote this about Judy this past summer when I thought she had passed:
When we moved to the farm around 1997 we needed to have some barn cats.  It's just not a farm without a cat in the barn.  We tried to raise some kittens through that first year. They never seemed to last long, always getting under tires, in engines.... 

I decided an adult cat is what we needed. I called a humane society only to be told I couldn't have a cat as we were putting it in the barn. (Um, our cats get high quality flea meds and live quite the life, hence why Judy is 16 and Tommy was about 14.) A friend had three house cats-one was Judy, who was probably 2 or 3 at the time??? Judy had started peeing on her stove. Obviously Judy was tired of being a house cat. I said they might not stay at our barn being older, used to the house cats.

Judy's name at that time was Princess.  When she arrived with the other cats we opened the crate and to no surprise they fled. But Judy showed back up a few days later. Meowing. And hasn't stopped since.

Judy has always been a strange cat. Chris renamed her Judy after a lady he knew as a child who was crazy. Always talking, never wanting to be held or petted for very long. One summer, about ten years ago, Judy disappeared. Chris had left for a horse show in Harriman and when we noticed she was gone immediately thought she had gotten carried off in the trailer.

Three months went by.  Maybe four. I was cleaning stalls and started hearing meowing from the rafters.  There was Judy!  Talking away.  I managed to coax her down and gave her some water.  She drank, stopped, talked, drank, stopped, talked, on and on for probably 15 minutes.  I told her I knew she was telling me all about her grand adventure but that she needed to hush, drink and rest her hip-she was limping badly on it.

For the past few years the strangeness has shown itself even more.  About four years ago, only during the summers, Judy would climb onto the top of the barn and the arena roof and meow and meow and poop on the roof.  There were little piles EVERYWHERE on the roof all summer long.  Chris would get SOOOOO mad at that crazy cat!!!!

Tommy, our other barn cat, came to us from Chris's momma's friend about a year or two after Judy.  He was around 9 months old.  Poor Tommy was never liked by Judy though he tried.  I don't think he tried very hard, in a good sort of way.  Playing like a kitten with her.  Nope, she'd have none of it.

Tommy disappeared about three weeks ago.  I'm sure he has slipped off to pass somewhere.  He was around 14?  I've missed him.  He liked to talk to you too.  Tommy learned that from Judy I believe.  But never was the talker she was.  And he liked to be petted and held unlike the aloof Princess girl.

So today when I saw poor old Judy in the hay I burst out crying because I thought, "this is it."  And then I felt guilty. I've been telling Chris for about three years I wanted to put her down-in a good, quite way.  The way with a needle.  The winters are cold and the summers are hot for old barn cats.  I cannot stand to think of strange, ole weirdo Judy suffering.  But I never really pushed for the end either.  The end has not come.  Not quite yet.  Not today.

Coins

Coins. I love rolling them. Those machines take all the fun out of stashing away change. However....it's frustrating to need one nickel. To look through your current pocketbook, the one before that, then through your husband's change on the dresser, through your car and the whole house and then through your pocketbook yet again and still need one nickel that you cannot find to finish the roll of $2....but kinda fun too when you find five pennies you weren't thinking about in all that searching to fill the last .50 cent roll.