Feathers Everywhere

Some lessons in life require a refresher course in order to be remembered.

Tonight, I heard our old kitty, Precious, outside meowling like crazy. I figured she wanted in really bad because it had just started to pour down rain. So, I quickly opened the door for her.

Once inside, she kept up her loud meowling, which is not like her, so I knew something was up. Only then did I remember to check to see if she was carrying anything in her teeth. Yes, oh, yes, our old girl proudly dropped a dead bird in the middle of my living room and came over to receive her congratulatory praise and petting for demonstrating what a skillful huntress she is, even in her advanced age.

I performed the duties of proud owner of a masterful little huntress, all the while keeping an eye on the bird. I worried it might still be alive. The last thing I needed was a wounded and frightened critter flapping and squawking around my living room and into my face while it tried to escape from my cat.

The bird appeared to be dead. I needed to get it out of the house, but I do not touch wild little animals, dead or alive. About then, Precious pounced on the bird again, tearing into it for a late-night snack. A cloud of feathers flew into the air. I envisioned blood and innards all over my carpet next. I grabbed my cell phone to call Buck. No answer. After leaving him a rather disjointed message, I decided to look for him in the shop. I figured that with a little bit of luck, he was out participating in one of his ham radio nets. I flew past Precious and her bird, dragged Buck away from the Ham Shack, quickly gave him the short version and told him I needed him to get a dead bird out of our living room. He came in, praised Precious up and down, but kindly informed her that, rain or no rain, her birdie had to go outside.

The lesson I needed to relearn is that it is necessary to check the pearly whites on these cats BEFORE we let them in the house. We can praise them through the screen door, but they need to keep the mice, gophers and birds they catch outside.

It is good I planned to vacuum in the morning, anyway, because I have bird feathers all over my carpet.

Hooray for Broccoli!

 For the first time in three years, I found broccoli starts. I just got them planted Saturday, though, because I did not want them out in my garden beds getting dried up and blown over by the gale force March winds that roared through here for several days.

The garden is far from a masterpiece. I have some garlic I planted last fall, the chives that are pretty much perennials in my garden, the volunteer cilantro and a whole bunch of weeds. I pulled out the biggest offenders as far as the weeds went, but I still have a lot of work to do in that department.

At the same time I bought the broccoli, I bought three sacks of steer uno-what. I need to finish the weeding before I work that into my soil. I still want to get my tomatoes, onion sets and squash. Hopefully, this spring won't be so damp that I lose my zucchini to mildew like I did last year.

For today, Archie, the garden cat, was out with me as I watered my little plants. ANYTHING to put off getting busy reading the style manual and checking the grammar for my latest proofreading project on Aurora Rescue. (see www.robynechols.blogspot.com for more on that.)

The buds are coming out on my dwarf pear tree. I am still waiting for blossoms on our apricot tree.