The Visitor

This creature has been tracked extensively on my old blog. She makes an appearance each year (with the exception of last year) right around Memorial Day. I try to be in possession of a fresh peach when she shows up. This year it happened Sunday. She ate a couple of bites from a slice in my hand before settling into the plants for a much needed rest. Now we've moved on to blueberries. She shares something with Domino during this regular visit. Assuming things have gone well in her love life, one night this week at dark, Sunny the turtle will dig a hole in some unassuming place in my backyard and drop 4-5 eggs in it. It takes about four hours and when she's finished you can't tell anything was ever touched. She will then hang around here for a couple of weeks, eating strawberries and other delicacies like earthworms and voles (everybody say Amen) before moving on. I'd love to know where she spends the rest of the summer, maybe back at the creek where she comes from.

Then, at the very end of August, just when I think those eggs must be hard boiled, a thunderstorm comes along to soak the ground overnight. The next morning there will be a pristine little hole in the ground with baby turtles the size of quarters spilling out of it. It's like God stopped by for dinner and decided to spend the night.

Alterations

Whiskey Nick, not altogether thrilled about his recent surgery, does a full inspection less than twenty four hours later. The older kittens went in Monday for their spay/neuter appointment and Tuesday morning they were back to absolute normal (chaos). It was as if nothing happened.

Hostel

It's coming up on time to say goodbye to the original three kittens. They go next week to get fixed and have a second round of shots. Then after a couple of recovery days, they'll go over to PetSmart where I'm reasonably sure they'll be adopted by wonderful families who for whatever reason, decided they need companionship in the form of a cat. I'm sure most will get new names that suit their owners and my coffee table will go back to looking like it used to. Boring, but functional. Stella will probably think something's gone awry but like Domino, she'll adjust.

Speaking of Stella, we have a temporary house guest whose home was wrecked by a fallen tree. Stella has pretty much disowned me (except at meal times - of course) in favor of the new guy. She sits up on the bed with him and when I call her she just looks at me as if to say "Who are you again?" There's a word for that but I won't say it.

Stella and Walter, living it up on my futon.

The three of us went down to the fairgrounds today and there was a woman walking her dog there that I'd met a couple of years ago. A professional dog owner, she walks her dogs regularly without leashes. I let Stella off the leash too since it's all fenced in down there anyway and she immediately went to the creek. We've never been off leash at a creek before so you can imagine what came next.

Wallowing. Head-completely-under-muddy water, digging up sticks, sort of wallowing, followed by bounding through waist high grass and weeds and more wallowing. In between the two was a fair amount of beaming on Stella's part. I think her favorite thing is being off leash. When we finally got back to the car (and this was after fifteen minutes at most) she was completely soaked with mud and grass, cockleburs, and God knows what. Throw in some chiggers and a tick or two and you get the idea.

Our friends from the cemetery walk (and I've been meaning to say this for a few weeks now and just haven't thought of it) - were given a lecture about the leash laws a couple of times by a bored park policeman. The property is enclosed by a stone fence except for two very long driveways. Anyway, he caught up with them again recently during their early morning ritual whereupon he proceeded to write them four separate tickets at $75. apiece. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding.

Yeah, I know, it's the law and it's a very effective law in most instances. I think there should be some flexibility though. Maybe a workshop that teaches police officers to use some rational discretion, some common-sense interpretation, particularly when it comes to that chaotic underworld of outlaw dog walkers.