I think it’s pretty obvious that I’m no blogger. There aren’t enough hours in the day. Among the posts I’ve not gotten around to writing are:
(1) Lee And The Squirrel. I feed the critters, Lee feeds the birds — and, consequently, the squirrels. We have several feeders hung in the olive tree. One squirrel in particular (known as That Little Shit) is forever climbing down the chain to get at the bird seed. He climbs down, Lee gets up to chase him away, he climbs up into the tree and waits for Lee to sit back down in his chair, at which point he climbs back down the chain. This can go on indefinitely. One day I walked outside to see TLS scamper across the patio, up Lee’s pant leg, and into his lap. It turns out Lee has been feeding him stale almonds. Yep, Lee really hates those squirrels.
(2) Possum On The Fence. I was in the bedroom reading one night and heard the dog next door having fits. I went outside and discovered the dog had a young possum trapped on the wood fence between our yards. The dog was jumping on the fence, trying to knock the possum off, I guess. (It’s an old fence; he was as likely to knock the whole thing down.) The dog barked; I yelled louder; Lee, who’d been watching tv, came outside to see what was going on. We tried various things to attract the dog’s attention but the possum wouldn’t move. Finally the neighbors came out (I suspect they’re all partly deaf; there’s a teen-aged drummer in the house) and took the dog indoors. Several minutes later the possum unfroze itself and went on its way along the fence. I felt like cheering it.
There weren’t many critters around during the winter, other than the cats. Since we hadn’t finished rebuilding the car port — it was a mere ninety years old — we put up plastic sheets in lieu of the missing gates. The animals didn’t like the plastic. I think it made too much noise.
Prior to putting up the plastic, I looked outside one night and saw a possum and a raccoon eating out of the same food dish. The possum ambled off and another raccoon showed up. Then a cat wandered by. It was Grand Central Station for a while.
The gates are up now, and the possums are back. I haven’t seen any raccoons yet. I hear there’s a raccoon epidemic in Long Beach. Maybe my raccoons moved on.
What I have seen is a new feral cat, a bob-tailed tuxedo kitty. I knew there was a short-tailed tom in the neighborhood, but didn’t know if he was a Manx or if he’d lost most of his tail in an accident. Apparently he’s a Manx. This little guy is probably less than a year old and has been adopted into the feral family. Lee named him Bob. He was real skittish when he first showed up, but hangs out with us now. Someone has had him fixed; one of his ears is clipped.
Bob’s a jumper. This morning I was later than usual feeding the cats and he was up on the ledge outside the kitchen window, peering in at me.