Saturday, July 16, 2011

Living...breathing...

For the past week, Pikachu and Daisy has experienced great difficulty in relaxing outdoors. The heat hasn’t been a problem, mind you, it’s Heckle and Jeckle. Two mockingbirds with major territorial issues. Suddenly this land belongs to them and they are willing to “flight” to the death to establish the fact with my precious pooch and my goddess kitty.

I continue to watch their behaviors and think to myself that I am gonna grab my camera and I never do. I just watch. I watch the sorry bird brains chase my cat in doors with her ears laid back, looking like she’s trying to get away from a fire where the flames are about to lick her furry pajamas. I watch Daisy try to protect her kitty, despite the realities of the relationship and how it is so similar to Odie and Garfield. She chases the mouthy mockingbirds away from Pika and watches them intently from the ground as they sit in the tree or on the wires and mock, yes, that’s why they are called mockingbirds, and mock they do. I watch and I listen to their constant thug like dribble. I listen to Pika chatter back at them…and they just mock back. I never get to my camera. I never catch her lying on the back patio rolling onto her back teasing them to try and come peck her so she can with one swipe of an out stretched claw remind them of the furry pajama goddess and her reign. I never catch them swooping down and pecking her behind as they chatter something about cats are not wanted here. I guess it’s just something you’d have to see for yourself.

This morning…I sat on the front porch as Pika and Daisy were on the back patio with Heckle and Jeckle. The constant chatter takes away from the morning coffee experience. So while they discussed things I sipped my liquid life in semi quiet on the front porch. Then Heckle showed up…I told him if he kept bothering me I’d send his feathers flying through the air in an unattached way. I ain’t playing this crazy game. He got quiet and I watched as he flew to the big pine in the front circle. He landed on the ground and assessed, yes, a baby. He flew to it and flew away. I think he was sizing up the situation. Poor bird brain…there is no situation to size up. Once they have fallen…it’s a no win situation. Well, it would be win for Pikachu if I shared the finding. I thought, “Ha! Serves you right!”

Then I went out and looked at it. Innocent…brought into this world by nature without asking. Lying exposed and vulnerable on the ground making itself flat as it could to be less noticeable to prey.

…and my heart…doesn’t feel the hate anymore…it feels compassion…

I located the nest in the tree…geez, so high and I am so short. I know I can’t touch it or the parents will peck it to death. So I gather my equipment, latex gloves, my camera (just in case I get a chance to shoot it), a small pail and my truck keys. I size up how far back I can back up. I line my truck up under the nest. Oh, I haven’t mentioned how Heckle and Jeckle are as angry as wet birds…

I rub my latex gloves on the ground and on the tree limbs to eliminate as much human odor that I can. And I get little baby in the pail. She jumps and runs. I chase her and put her back in the pail. Heckle and Jeckle are out of their minds. I climb the truck and stand on the bed cover. When I go to dump the lost soul into the nest, its siblings think I’m there to feed them and all lean up with their mouths open…lost Nikon moment there, by the way. I dump her in…Heckle and Jeckle start dive bombing at me. I turn to fight them, and the lost soul jumps out of the nest!!! What the freaking heck!!!

So the whole thing happens again…but this time I bring Daisy out to fight Ma and Pa while I perform my firewoman like service. And all goes well…I shove baby into the nest and smash her down so she stays this time…well, it didn’t quite happen like that, but I do like to tell a good story.

I secretly know this will probably not work. She’ll be rejected by her parents, probably won’t get food from them and if she makes it, will suffer through her life with serious emotional issues. But my conscience is satisfied. And that’s what I have to live with, right?

I just wish my instructor would accept this writing for the two page essay on how poverty affects the crime level. I mean I can see it in this, can’t you? That and poor housing…why would the bird brains build a slanted nest anyway!






























Thursday, July 7, 2011

We Said Goodbye, a Year Ago

It's been a year since we said goodbye, Moma...

So thankful for the time I had with you during your last days. So thankful for all the memories...so thankful you have a new body now and are dancing with the angels...no more pain...no more worry...You are greatly missed.

Today,I'm getting stuck in my blog...I ran a search on Moma in it and found quite a bit I wrote...Moma's last day is always hard for me to read but I'm thankful I took the time to write it late that night when I couldn't sleep. I wish I had more of the conversations written down. Like the one sitting around the kitchen talble in Sharpsburg discussing what would happen in our adult years...I see butterflies everyday. Molly and Emily have a love for them...Daisy has, shame on her, been trying to catch them...I was taking a report the other day on a missing juvenile whose birthday was 05/26 and had to stop and breath...Moma speaks to me sometimes and it takes me a second to maintain my composure. and with every butterfly I see...it's as if she lives in flight...reminding me she's dancing with the angels. Free.

So much has changed since you left us, Moma. Time does not go backwards