I can't tell you how many songbird feeders I've bought over the years. I chose them simply because they were pleasing to the eye - and then when I filled them up with seed the birds stayed away like there was a cat crouching nearby. But this deceptively simple "bird swing" is brilliant.
1. If Brother is otherwise occupied, Sugar cuddles with Chance.
2. During a game of tug-a-war, Sugar serves as referee.
Several months ago, Jon Stewart wittily noted that after Texas Governor Rick Perry made a public spectacle out of praying for rain, the Lone star State caught on fire. It's a fair assessment. This summer's drought and accompanying forest fires were described by NPR as the "worst in Texas history." Deep in the wooded countryside, Art and I often smelled smoke and watched the sky darken before noon. Thirsty trees toppled, branches fell, leaves shriveled, pasture grass died.
During all this, I was riddled with anxiety about our pond which was drying up fast. We managed to re-route water from the pump house across the field and divert it into the pond, which didn't raise the water level much (evaporation was brutal) but it kept the pond from turning into a puddle. We fed the fishes with pellets from the local Tractor Supply Store.
Change of Seasons. Once Rick Perry stopped beseeching God to fix the weather and he went off to embarrass himself and annoy voters in other states, the bountiful rains returned - and so has our pond!
I proudly present these before and after photos. Color me content. (I'm ready for my ducks now, Mr. DeMille.)
"The Supreme Court has ruled that they cannot have a nativity scene in Washington, D.C. This wasn't for any religious reasons. They couldn't find three wise men and a virgin." - Jay Leno
Below are some mildly disturbing images of the Madonna and Child ...
For some reason I feel more of a spiritual connection with the canine nativity scenes than these icons of Catholicism.
Finally, here is a photo of my sweetheart with Chance and Little Brother, taken on Christmas morning.
We adopted another dog - an older, medium-sized mixed-breed. We call her Polly. Art and I had taken one of the cats for a check-up, and while my partner was in the examination room making soothing noises at Sugar, I decided to stroll through Canine Death Row, the county pound which is located next door to the vet's office.
Polly was sharing a cage with three other dogs. Of the four animals, she was the oldest and the most fearful. She had that forlorn and bewildered look dogs get when their loved ones move away and abandon them.
It was a bitterly cold morning, and lying on the hard concrete floor must have been torturous on her aging joints. She was pressed against the far side of the cage, and an ugly brown mongrel was growling and nipping at her ears - from boredom I presume. She was trembling, nervous, plainly miserable.
The worker told me they hadn't named her yet because they didn't expect her to be adopted. He tried to steer me toward some puppies. Nope, I told him, raising another pup wasn't in the cards.
I filled out the paperwork on the spot. By the time Sugar had finished with the vet, I was able to present the adoption as a fait accompli. Art accepted the situation with grace since we'd already been talking about getting a senior dog.
The transition has been smooth. Little Brother snapped at Polly a few times (as he reminds her of the pecking order) but she treats the cats and Chance with great tenderness. She really is a sweet old thing, just needed a little love and hope.
1. For our black lab Little Brother, sniffing around the pond is like a visit to a library since this has become the go-to place for thirsty wildlife. (Many East Texas ponds dried up during the summer drought.) Sooner or later, all creatures great and small show up for a drink of water. Brother's sense of smell is formidable. Each bird track and paw print is a newspaper; feathers and hair, feces and flakes of skin are novels with fascinating stories to tell.
2. Chance loves gnawing on his toy tire. (It's a Michelin.) 3. Brother and Chance frolic in the pasture.
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