Animals

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Scout at 11 weeks.

 We did the DNA cheek swab.

 We’re anxiously awaiting the results.

Since adopting the abandoned puppy, we’ve been wondering what he is. We are pretty sure one of Scout’s parents is a german shepherd. But, what about the other parent?

At first we thought Scout was all german shepherd despite his droopy ears. Every german shepherd puppy has droopy ears for 8 weeks. But, by 4 to 7 months the ears should be erect. Scout’s ears never quite came up.

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Ears coming up? Scout at 4 months.

Not that Scout didn’t tease. When Scout was approximately 12-weeks-old one ear starting going up. Then the other. They got 3/4 of the way. Then at five months the ears headed south.

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Scout, 70 lbs. and 7-months

Scout is now a 7-month-old. And he has changed even more. He weighs 70-lbs. His tail curls over his back like a pug. He seems to be getting jowels.

Is he part mastiff? Pit bull? Bulldog? Pug?

 It takes 6 to 8 weeks for test results. We are on pins and needles. How can Maury handle the suspense 5 days a week?

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Scout’s doggy DNA kit

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Spring plowing.

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We have wild ducks living in our woods. I hope that means baby ducks!!!

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We’re going to have to take our walks in other directions. I want the ducks to stay.

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Why did the ducks cross the road?

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To get to the pond on the other side.

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Tadpoles. I hope they eat EVERY single mosquito larvae.

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Mama, baby and LOTS of spring grass.

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Spring violets.

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I am not sure what kind of flower this is. We have a lot of them.

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There is a possum has living in the old graundhog hole. Buster and Abby are thrilled.

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Kitty is as happy for sunshine as I am.

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The owl is waiting. He has his prey in sight.

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The raccoon dares not move.

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He cowers…motionless between the branches.

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There’s a life and death drama going on in our treetops. Do you see it?

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I’ve circled the owl and raccoon to make them easier to find.

I know owls eat mice. I didn’t know they hunted raccoons. But, there’s no mistaking the owl’s intentions.

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His eyes are glued on the raccoon.

I’m hoping this owl has overreached and that his eyes are bigger than his hunting ability.

He’s a Barred Owl. Only, I probably should have said she. According to this Barred Owl site, the females are larger. Of all of the North American owls, the Barred Owl is the species most likely to be active during the day, especially when raising chicks. The chicks leave their nests at 4 weeks, before they are able to fly. They crawl out of the nest using their beak and talons to sit on branches. These owls are called branchers.

Parents care for the young for at least 4 months, much longer than most other owls. Young tend to disperse very short distances, usually less than 6 miles, before settling. Pairs mate for life and territories and nest sites are maintained for many years.

UPDATE: Today we walked the trails and looked everywhere. NO RACCOON FUR.

 More about Barred Owls:Barred Owls (Strix Varia)

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A WORLD WHERE DREAMS COME TRUE.

Our day in paradise…

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This picture is for my sister-in-law who loves parrots. The parrot is wishing her a happy belated-birthday!!!!!

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Two very noisy lorikeets.

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The first of MANY butterfly pictures…we LOVED the butterflys.

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I wish this was in my back yard.

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A parrot displays his wings.

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These shaftail finches groomed each other and cuddled like true “lovebirds”

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A Blue Cheeked Cordon Bleu takes a drink.

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Look at the colors…SOOOOOOOOOOOO beautiful!!!!

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From the insect museum…yes  he’s alive.

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The tarantula is alive, too.

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DH’s new friend wants to get friendlier.

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DH was VERY popular with the lorikeets.

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“Hmmmm….I’ve had enough to eat. Think I’ll climb up an arm.”

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The first of many flower pictures…

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We saw these signs but never saw dogs. We didn’t climb the fence to try to get them to come out for pictures though.

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A starling outside the exit…”goodbye…we’ll be back!”

A butterfly spreads his wings:

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A walk in the woods and a mystery…what kind of bird left these tracks?

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The tracks are 5″ long and are on the trail leading past the horse pasture. So this would be a meadow bird?

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You can see the length of the bird’s tread and his gait in this picture.

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Another picture accenting the size of this bird’s feet.

We have been watching but have YET to see the bird making the tracks. In the meantime, does anyone know what kind of bird is walking through our field? We don’t have even an idea…

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Whee…I’m coming through.”

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“Oh yea, I double dog dare you!”

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“Abby”

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“We want to play, too!”

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“Gangway…here we come”


Skipper and Summer play in the snow and scare Abby who decides to watch from afar. (Behind a bush.)

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Despite having crossed over into her senior years, Abby is as frisky as a pup!

It doesn’t get better!

We have fresh snow, two dogs and sunshine.

We can’t go into the woods, though. It’s deer hunting season. Every deer in the county knows DH and I don’t hunt. Their tracks are everywhere. They are everywhere.

We’ve flushed out full-antlered bucks. We’ve flushed out whole herds.

One of the deer is the smallest doe DH has ever seen. He saw her this summer and thought she was a fawn, until he saw the baby. DH was on his tractor and the fawn and tiny doe walked almost up to him. They weren’t the least bit afraid as they strolled by DH and the tractor on their way to a neighbor’s cornfield.

But, as beautiful as they are and as much as we love seeing them, the deer are a danger to our deer-running dogs who’ll hopefully give chase over car-ridden highways, past trigger-happy hunters and livestock-protecting farmers.

Until hunting season ends, the dogs have to be leashed or kept by the garden where they won’t be enticed into harm’s way.

Today though, nobody minds. Not with snow to run through and a dad who can be coaxed into throwing the ball.

It’s a most wonderful TIME of the year!

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Abby is on the alert. There is a groundhog hole on the other side of the brush.

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“Tag, you’re it!”

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“You can’t catch me.” Buster’s smile says it all! He’s so pleased with himself, he doesn’t notice Abby isn’t trying to catch him.

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Buster makes dog “snow angels”.

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Buster’s ball. We got it for the horses, who wanted nothing to do with it. Buster found it and fell in love. We like it too. It wears Buster out more than a regular ball.

More posts about the dogs:

My Big Fat Animals

Two dogs and a cat go to the vet

Thanksgiving dinner rolls…and a bad dog!

“Bad Boy Buster” and Dog Whispering

Saving Kitty

Posts about the cats:

Playing Cat and Mouse

My Big Fat Animals

Two dogs and a cat go to the vet

The Cat Box

Cat Ladder

DH’s Cat Ladder Goes International

Saving Kitty

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Simba bringing me a present.

Furry little animals are my favorite gifts.

Usually.

Last night, Simba brought me a present. He’d caught his first mouse and was excitedly meowing with every step. Unfortunately I didn’t know what Simba’s calls meant until it was too late.

 Proudly, Simba dropped the mouse at my feet and waited to be praised. Only when the mouse ran toward me, I went the other way.

Undaunted, Simba recaptured the mouse and followed me into the next room. Maybe he thought I needed to learn to hunt. He was calling me the way mother cats call their babies.

Which is how we ended up playing cat and mouse.

Patiently, Simba again dropped his mouse, making encouraging chirps and looking at me hopefully.

Simba was proud of his catch. His eyes gleamed. He looked fierce, like his name. But still, he was giving the mouse to me.

 I swept the mouse outside with a broom.

Simba ran out the dog door.

I like to think the mouse escaped and found his way back to the barn. And that the little mouse had a glorious reunion with his family.  

But, this morning, I didn’t kiss Simba.

More cat stories:

My Big Fat Animals

Two dogs and a cat go to the vet

The Cat Box

Cat Ladder

DH’s Cat Ladder Goes International

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I have been tagged by paperseedblog of http://paperseed.wordpress.com/ and asked to post 7 honest things about myself. It sounds easy,  but I’ve been putting it off. Until now.

I am a homebody. Crowds make me uncomfortable. I hate shopping malls and supersized “one-stop” groceries. Give me a little shop anyday. I dread parties. My home is warm and cozy. It has my husband, my animals, my books, my computer, my hi-def tv and all of my favorite foods. I love my house and being in my house.

 I hate small talk. I am not good at it. I feel awkward and tongue-tied. My mind drifts. When I was single I suggested movies for first dates to avoid conversation.

 With  friends and family or when talking about things I care about, I am a chatterbox. My poor husband sometimes has to wait to get in a word edgewise.

I like old things better than new. I have a passion for antiques. Only I want to use them instead of storing and preserving them. I read the old books, display the arrowheads, work with the kitchen tools and stir my cakes in antique bowls. These items have a history and I like adding to it.

blog-pictures-001.jpg I don’t love all of my animals the same. I secretly love Abby and Simba the most. I love Abby because she has become my dog. I love Simba because he smells so good and because he snuggles. Simba would rather be DH’s cat, but sometimes he bestows himself upon me and purrs and cuddles. I love smelling his fur and hearing his purr.

Sometimes, when DH asks me to go for walks I say no and make excuses. There is always something else I’d rather do. But, “if “I go, I am always glad I did. A walk through our woods is more relaxing than a tranquilizer.

“All the Critters” has a quiz (http://allthecritters.wordpress.com/2007/10/05/take-this-quiz-to-find-out-what-animal-you-are/) to find out what kind of “animal” you are.

I took the quiz.

I am a “pale giraffe” — an introvert. Imagine.

What kind of animal are you?

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“I promise to answer your horse related questions and to include three references other than my own experience” said Edna Leigh of Red Pony Farm, “I have at my disposal a vast library of information and many professionals with whom I have the necessary rapport to glean needed expert commentaries. They include veterinarians, ferriers, trainers in several disciplines, breeders, back yard hobbyists, farmers, and competitors of all ages who have achieved success.”

 Edna Leigh was taken up on her offer immediately.

Jolynna asks:

“Separation anxiety question: I have two horses who have hissy fits when separated. Between the neighing and calling back and forth, the head tossing of the one being ridden, and the frantic galloping and bucking of the one left behind, riding isn’t fun. Any suggestions?”

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“Buddy Sour” Skipper

Today I had the answer to my question from Edna Leigh and several experts. I am thrilled. Edna Leigh  worked hard and gathered a LOT of information. 

To read the suggestions for how to cure “buddy sour” Skipper and Summer and to read more horse related questions and solutions check out Red Pony Farm:

http://redponyfarm.typepad.com/

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“Buddy sour” Summer gets a carrot from Autumn.

MORE HORSE STORIES:

Give me a kiss

Horses , Skipper Rears

Saving Kitty and the Barn Kickers

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