Category: Cat

White clematis opening in the morning

Another Saturday has come and gone on the Jenotopia suburban wanna-be-farm. The animals and I passed the day with a nice mix of work and play, so I thought I would share a slice of our typical weekend day.

My weekend day starts just before 6 a.m., when I groggily climb out of bed and prepare to feed the chickens. I am not a morning person, so this part of the day is sometimes a bit bumpy. Once I am awake, I am always glad to be up, though, as the mornings are beautiful here. This time when I came out of the house I was greeted by the sight of a small flock of Canada geese winging their way overhead.

Canada geese in the sunrise

By now the hens have heard me coming down the steps, and I hear their clucking and complaining (“Let us out!”). I’d better get to it! I quickly sweep up the run before their breakfast ~

Sweeping the run

~ and then I collect some scratch grains and grit (tiny gravel) to go with their gourmet breakfast of greens, fresh corn on the cob, chopped parsley, and broccoli.

Hen breakfast

After the chickens and dogs have been fed, it’s my time: I enjoy a double cappuccino on the patio as the sun comes up.

Morning cappuccino in my favorite cup

Suddenly I feel the tickle of whiskers on my elbow, followed by a small, wet lick: Thaney, my perpetual, obsessive Helper, reminds me she is here and available for whatever comes up . . . especially if I happen to bring a biscotti out to the patio.

My Helper

Sometimes I will come back in and do some writing or work photos ~ but not yesterday! Instead I lingered over my coffee, enjoying the roses waving in the breeze and watching the chickens out in the back yard.

Garden statue and roses in the morning (see the chickens on the other side of the fence?)

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Bess and Sister wander through petal-strewn yard

The hens wander around in the morning sun, grazing on grass and picking bugs and worms out of the yard. On the weekends they will spend most of the day in the yard, munching and napping.

Hens enjoying the shade

As I drink my coffee I look around and notice 500 things that need to be done. When my fidgeting gets unbearable I pull my boots on and get to work. This weekend I worked on weeding and finishing the stepping stones in the new herb garden.

Basil growing by the day in the new herb garden

RT and I also worked on finishing the tomato cages for the vegetable garden.

Young tomato plant about to be caged

While we worked, the dogs ran around the field behind the house sniffing interesting things, chasing birds and digging mole hills, and rolling in mysterious substances.

“Wolf” in the field

Got sheep?

Manny’s combination of age and tendency to get into mischief render him housebound these days; while I am outside I can hear him shouting at me from the window.

If looks could kill . . .

By now the sun is reaching its peak, and it’s getting a bit hot. The hens have been busy laying eggs during their play time; I collect eggs from the coop before they get too warm.

Collecting eggs

In early afternoon we work on other projects, like preparing the coop for really warm weather. I dreamed up a nice, secure screen door for the coop, and RT helped make it a reality.

Summer screen door for the coop: spoiled hens?

When it’s time for a break, I sometimes sit in the grass and watch the chickens. They always come over to investigate, and sometimes they will sit around me and nap in the shade.

Sleepy Edna and Bess relax with me in the grass ~ and are eventually joined by Sister and Baby Mija

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As I return to my projects, I notice one of our local hawks checking out the hens ~

Hawk scouting out some nice, fat hens

Girls, maybe it’s time to go back into the covered run!

The afternoon passes quickly, and some weekends we will fire up the grill and cook outside. Sometimes we do something fancy, and sometimes it will just be the nice simplicity of burgers ~

There’s nothing like the smell of meat on the grill

Or if I am feeling ambitious, I might make a souffle or something experimental ~

Goat cheese souffle

~ but no matter what we cook I will uncork a nice little wine (although the egg dishes will always call for something white, not red!).

Just a little something juicy

After dinner we’ll let the hens back out, and I will walk the gardens with the dogs and my wine glass. We’ll survey the progress we made, and ~ hey, what’s that?

Wait a minute ~ is that a tractor in our subdivision?

Yes, my neighbor is also a frustrated wanna-be farmer, and he is riding his beautifully-restored tractor up and down the street after dinner. I swirl my wine and envy his tractor.

Yep, that’s definitely a tractor!

The evening winds down, and the sun begins to set as we listen to a little Miles Davis on the patio. The hens quietly come in to roost and the dogs are nodding off, bellies full of whatever weekend feast we enjoyed. I will go to bed with aching weekend-warrior muscles, tired but happy after spending a day with herbs and chickens, dogs and tomatoes and juicy red wine.

It was a good day.

Maple leaves in sunset

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Time and time again I hear the claim (or discern the assumption) that humans are the smartest creatures crawling across this planet of ours. While a deep discussion of this might prove too long and ugly for this blog, let me just say that the animals with whom I share hearth and home are without exception smarter, happier, more well-adjusted and better able to navigate their worlds than I am. I have much to learn from them, and every day I try to keep up.

Anyone who deals with animals knows that when trying to understand their reasoning, it is generally a mistake to use human logic. Animals just think in an entirely different way, perhaps because they have never been corrupted by classes in logic and rhetoric. Over the years, though, I have found that 99% of the time (they don’t loosely use statistics, either) they have a very sound reason for doing what they do ~ I just don’t always understand it.

Hobie: do you see that jogger? He looks suspicious.

My dog Hobie (The Best Dog in the World) is a great example of this: while he is normally on the very best behavior, sometimes things just go off-kilter. But no matter how inexplicable his actions seem to me at a given moment, when I look further I have always, always found him to be justified. Waking me up whining in the middle of the night? Big storm coming. Standing there looking at me while I repeatedly call for him? Large thorn in the bottom of his foot. Barking at nothing? Stranger lurking outside campfire light. Barely audible whine on sunny weekend morning? Those eggs ain’t cookin’ themselves, woman!

Hobie just makes sense. Actually, his reasoning is exceptionally sound.

Thaney in motion

Thaney: I just reprogrammed your car’s computer ~ and predicted the Derby winner.

Thaney the Border Collie has her own reasoning: it is binary, and probably uses some sort of space-age, alien processor that works at light speed. She is either ON or OFF. There is no in-between, no grey area, and where there is any motion at all it is fast. Thaney is a computer disguised as a dog, and her root program is designed to predict action. She connects to her power supply through the tip of her nose, and the power source is apparently behind my knee. She remains there until launched, either by me or by the command she has predicted I am about to make. When I begin to walk from one end of the house, Thaney specializes in sprinting from her “connect mode,” passing me, rounding the house, and ending up facing me in the room and location where I eventually end up. I believe she knows my body language better than I know hers. If she had opposable thumbs, she would be typing this blog (and writing stories she accurately predicts you all would enjoy reading), and I would be in the back yard catching some rays. I continue to Google ‘Swiss plastic surgery breakthroughs’ with this hope.

Something wicked this way comes

Manny has selfish, predictable, infuriating cat reasoning: me, me, me, now. RIGHT NOW, or else I will lay this room to waste. Not giving me what I want? NO LOVIN’. You are dead to me. –Until I love you again and bury my face in your old leather shoes.

Manny: I dominate and disdain you.

Why, why do I admire this feline brand of petulant self-indulgence? If I liked that sort of abusive behavior I’d watch “House.” Maybe it’s the fact that a 13-pound cat is willing to stare me down when I could easily punt him like a football; there’s something admirable in there, I’m sure of it. I’ll let you know when I figure out what it is. (BTW, I would never, ever punt my Manny like a football. But he is about the right size . . .)

And then there are the Spoiled Suburban Hens. Hen reasoning opens a whole new can of worms (ha!) ~ one which I will perhaps open later in the week. I will also have a mystery for you to solve. Maybe two, now that I think of it. Stay tuned . . .

“Huh? I heard you.”

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‘Tis sweet to hear the watch dog’s honest bark
Bay deep-mouth’d welcome as we draw near home;
‘Tis sweet to know there’s an eye will mark
Our coming, and look brighter when we come . . .

- Byron, Don Juan, Canto CXXIII

It is blessed, wonderful Friday! Whether you work a day job, travel a lot, or have just ever been away from home, how wonderful it is to finally walk through your own front door. If you are fortunate enough to have loved ones waiting, all the better.

I always love coming home to my furry, feathery crew ~ there is plenty of hair, fuzz, dirt and saliva flying around for everyone to have a share, and no matter what I am wearing there is just no way around it. It really is OK, though: I think there aren’t too many things nicer than a smiling dog! That joy is just infectious ~ no matter how bad the day was, you just can’t mope around when you see those little faces. There is sure to be a critter pile in the living room tonight ~ no, not the kind of pile that prompts you to get the mop, the good critter pile that occurs when you’re sitting on the floor wearing a T-shirt and sweat pants and no shoes, and every single animal in the house is piled on top of you trying to be the closest one to Mama.

Good stuff.

But before the happy reunion comes the wait:

Hobie and Manny waiting for RT

And more waiting.

“So do you think he’s really coming home?”

“Mama! Surely he wouldn’t leave us?!”

And at last! The sound of truck tires in the driveway!

“Ahhhh! Looooove yooooooouuuuuu!!!” (At this point, Thaney is so excited she bursts out the door and just keeps running.)

So let the wild rumpus begin!

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And, of course, let’s not forget that for Jen,

Sweet is the vintage, when the showering grapes
In Bacchanal profusion reel to earth,
Purple and gushing . . . (Canto CXXIV)

I already have a lovely purple darling waiting for me at home. Life is good. Last night I sifted through some of the empties littering the shelf (I have trouble letting go) and figured I ought to write about one or two ~ we’ll start with The Tillerman 2005. I’ll try to post later today.

Until then I will be dreaming of flowing red wine, nice rows of vegetables, pecking chickens and smiling pups ~ and oh yes, one grumpy cat. Happy Friday!

Ah, Monday. For all of you who, like me, are doing what you have to do in order to smooth the way for what you want to do ~ I give you a few images of my weekend with the hope that you will fondly remember the beautiful tastes, sights and smells of freedom.

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Pear and maple trees waking up from winter’s nap

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Ultimate weekend breakfast: buttermilk biscuit, melted English cheddar and fresh egg straight from the coop

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Manny dreaming of freedom ~ and slow, fat birds

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Enjoying what the Easter bunny brought last weekend

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May your Monday flow smoothly and be full of little joys!

Magazines and papers scattered across the floor.

Little toy mice everywhere.

Window blinds in disarray.

Pebbles of kitty litter . . . on my laptop.

*sigh*

At least he’s not on the keyboard this time

Manny is feeling better.

His eyes have all the seeming ~ of a demon’s that is dreaming