Wild Kingdom

 

Because I never think to carry a camera with me at all times, I mostly succeed in missing all the really dramatic visitations that occur in our yard. Hence, Robin the Good's stuffed animal collection will offer stand-ins for the actual critters. (Above is "Snake", one of Robin's favorite toys. There are three (3!!) squeakers in this play thing which lends an almost stereophonic soundscape to her rough-housing.)

Coyotes have become a regular feature of life in the wilds of suburban Connecticut. Alarmingly, last week I opened the back door at 10:00 in the morning to hear what I thought was a siren. On closer listen, I realized- as did Robin who wanted back into the house- that it was a pack of coyotes. Out and hunting in broad daylight seemingly just one backyard away. Yikes! Probably hunting turkeys...

So we have turkeys; boy do we have turkeys! There's a flock, or a slew, or... what's the group name for turkeys? A throng? Dunno but we have what must be an extended family of them. Every day or two, they make a slow-motion appearance in the horse field. The horses don't seem perturbed, but Robin goes ballistic. They show up and dine on horse poop. They also are no doubt eating endless bugs and ticks so they are indeed welcome.

(Okay, that's "Bison". I thought it was a squirrel when I purchased it, but it does have horns and on closer examination, yes, it's definitely a buffalo). Anyway, the other day when I was playing with Neko in the round pen, She kept flexing her nostrils and holding her head really high, like she was smelling something. I trying peering across our stream to the area that was holding her interest. I saw motion in the bushes and thought maybe it was our resident fox but NO! It was a large and muscular bobcat. I was brandishing my (long) lunging whip anyway, so I ran to the lower end of the round pen and swung my whip around and ululated loudly. The bobcat- correctly- assumed it was being hunted by a human lunatic and took off towards the nature preserve which our property abuts. Good riddance!

(That's "Alien". Robin doesn't care one whit for Alien but I like him/her.) I saw something that not please me at all the other night. When taking Robin out for her late-night pee, I thought I detected a large dark form near our side fence, between the birch clump and the wood pile. Holy fucking crap! It was a deer! We have been blessedly free of these cloven hoofed vermin; all they do is chew things to pieces. It scrambled to safety as I bolted out of  the house, (again) ululating wildly. (I think there is a pattern developing here. If it keeps the wildlife in abeyance, I'll gladly keep exercising the weirder aspects of my sound-making capabilities!)

("Frog" who makes a peculiar crunching/clunking noise because you put an empty plastic container inside of it. Robin's had this toy forever and he's stood the test of time and constant dog chew.) We also have a neighbor's stanky Siamese cat that insists on putting in guest appearances. I just don't like this pest, particularly because it emerged from the hay section of our barn once and the area smelled like nasty cat piss for days. It's a grudge match since then, with me hollering like a banshee and giving chase (sometimes in the car... don't ask) when I see it. (Our next door neighbors on the other side of the driveway witnessed one of my finer performances involving this cat several years back. I believe I recounted that particularly embarrassing event in a previous blog.) 

(Your guess is as good as mine, here. Chipmunk? Squirrel? Corduroy hybrid? I had to replace the eyes as Robin pulled them off early in this toys debut at our house; that only added to it's elusive identity.) So what else? We do have a fox that stops by. And Bob has a special gaggle of crows that await his mouse offerings. I think they've missed him these past few days as he recuperates. The crows were massed by the driveway and vegetable garden- unusual location for them!- and seemed to be looking for Bob. Don't tell them, but we did catch a mouse and I'll be delivering it to them soon.

Our friends (Hi Sheldon! Hi Louise!) in Hamden have had a bear ramble up the driveway recently. No thank you! You can keep the bears! We have plenty enough wild life without bears!
 

 

Birthday Most Murderous

Here's Robin the birthday girl herself. She'd all growed up and 4 years old! What a splendid dog! What a destructive dog! What a murderer! Not three minutes after she received two lovingly chosen new dog toys, one of them had parts of his head ripped off and strewn about the upstairs landing.

This is actually a picture of Robin (who is doomed to be eternally represented by a black blur as she refuses to hold still) trying to eviscerate the second toy, which proved to be tougher material. (Note to self: only purchase dog toys WITHOUT stuffing.)
Just look at Robin running away from the evidence: (off to destroy other unwitting toys.)

She's like, "I didn't do it! And if I did, it just shows such shoddy third world construction!" I know what I'll be doing later today- performing emergency surgery on the poor victim. I am also debating contacting the company that manufactured this not very substantial toy and offer Robin as a toy-tester. She's brutal!

(I'll admit I bought this particular specimen because I think it's supposed to be some sort of elephant-inspired animal. I thought it might be fun for Robin to chew on a rethuglican-themed toy. I guess she did prove it to be a witless jamoke filled with fluff and no substance!)

Building A Wall

I realize that the title of this post seems to refer to a notorious project that is being trumpeted about by a recent occupier of the White House (that will cost billions and accomplish nothing other than to make many people's lives worse than they already are...). But in this instance, the title refers to various barricades that Bob and I now live with as a matter of course. These demi-walls are set up to temporarily block a certain young dog access to rooms in our house.(Hi Robin!)

As we all fondly remember, Lil' Robin the Good refused to be confined when she was a mere pup. She scaled barriers of every description and height, perhaps employing magical powers, as she seemed to miraculously appear on the other side of whatever wall was erected. It was impressive. We finally relented, and gave her the run of the house and so far we have suffered no disastrous consequence, excepting Robin's consumption (with no ill effect) of several pairs of reading glasses, sun glasses and Bob's prescription glasses and a passel of pens.
However, when we're not present, we do restrict her access to a few rooms with these temporary barriers. Inexplicably, these pieces of plywood and fiberboard work where more serious blockades never did. And you may ask, why not just close the doors to these rooms? Because Lil' Robin doesn't like closed doors and will scratch and whine vigorously until the door is opened.

My studio, the bedroom and the "office" are all off limits as they are beyond impossible to secure from her idiosyncratic quest for things to chew. (I call it "shopping": she cases a room, checking out all nose-height surfaces.) Robin seems content to roam the rest of the house, and in general, we have been lucky that furniture has been spared. And Robin was a pretty quick study in the house training department; we really didn't experience many "accidents" of the liquids and solids variety.

And look! There's Lil' Robin now, with an entertaining assortment of her preferred chewables: empty seltzer bottles and plastic perennial pots, with the occasional foray into more traditional things like balls. And below? The Magic Robin! (Looks sort of like she's saying "Who me? I didn't eat that!")