We had some excitement in our neighborhood yesterday! I got a FB message from a neighbor I hadn’t met. (Thanks, Carrie & Matt!) They spotted an injured bird near the boathouse and they were directed to me for help. I’ve rescued birds before, as well as orphaned bunnies, so I keep a supply of shoeboxes and old dish towels around to transport hurt animals to the Alabama Wildlife Center near Birmingham. So off I trot to rescue the little tweeter and I find a fully grown Blue Heron with long gangly legs, a scary-looking beak, and wings that span five feet.
Um…the shoebox ain’t cuttin’ it. The bird was tottering on an injured leg and he was sticking close to the shallow water near shore. So, I trot back home with my little shoebox and get online to ask the Internet what I should do. The Alabama Wildlife Center is who I call when this sort of thing happens (and it happens to me pretty often). Their advice is that these water birds are incredibly dangerous and I should proceed with extreme caution. Okaaaaaay. I got on Facebook and sent out an SOS to my neighbors to help me capture this majestic creature, and the response was immediate. Jim met Matt & Carrie at the boat house and the two men subdued Hank with bed sheets. Jim put him in a LARGE cardboard box in the back of Old Blue, my ancient and beloved mode of transportation.
The box was lined with shredded paper and sheets. Jim folded the top closed and brought Hank home where I was frantically arranging for a volunteer from the AWC to meet me halfway to transport the bird. I would have driven the entire way, but we had a function to get to in Auburn by 5:00, so I was quite pressed for time. Kind volunteers Gina and her husband Russell met me at an exit off Hwy 65 approximately mid-way between the Gump and B’ham.
Hank made it to the center and was examined in the clinic. I’ve made a request that they send me updates and a few photos of his progress. The center is run mostly by volunteers and is very busy with many birds to care for, so they might not be able to take pictures and send info on our plumed pal. Gina, however, has kindly agreed to keep an eye on Hank and give me reports on his progress. She not only volunteers as an animal transporter, she works a daily shift at the center answering the hotline. My hope is that Hank will make full recovery and I’ll be able to bring him back to the “Hood” and set him free. The Blue Heron is our neighborhood mascot and a stunning example of God’s handiwork. We wish you a speedy recovery my feathered friend! Come home soon! –Your neighbors
Actually when the HUSBAND is away, the WIFE will hire painters to fix up the kitchen cabinets. Not as catchy, but the truth nonetheless. Jim SAYS he’s representing the US Delegation for Unmanned Aerial Vehicles in Brussels, but I don’t care, as long as he brings back chocolate! My dear hubs has been talking about repainting the kitchen cabinets for about a year now. The poor guy has a “honey-do” list as long as my arm so he just hasn’t gotten to it yet. I figure, I’ll hire Marlin’s crew to fix them up, and maybe when Jim gets home he won’t notice until after Christmas.
Apparently painters love kittens.
The guys did a great job and now my kitchen looks all spiffy.
Bonnie found her favorite.
Although the kittens were “smitten”, Mr. Mulder was having none of it. He did NOT like these guys being in his house.
Some tuff guy you are, finding refuge in Mommy’s nightie drawer!
Jim returns late Saturday and I’m hoping it will be too dark for him to notice the paint job. If I should mysteriously turn up missing after his return, will someone please try to find the body? Check the pet cemetery first. 🙂
It was time to stop pretending that our outdoor furniture was “shabby chic”–more like “crappy chic.” With some help from a professional and Jim’s wallet they went from this…
What the heck does lawn furniture have to do with kitties, bunnies and/or chickens you ask?
Meet Marlin, master painter and kitten admirer.
He was putty in my paws Clyde!
Thanks, Marlin, for being an animal advocate (he actually is) and giving my old chairs a facelift. Beautiful job.
My good friend Debbie wrote me a sweet note yesterday extolling the virtues of my former chickens. Rosie, Daisy & Violet (Scarlett as well) live on Debbie’s farm near Tuskegee, Alabama. She admits that out of her 50 plus chickens, my birds are her favorites and she wanted to let me know how much they meant to her. I edited her note somewhat because she heaps praises on me, and you know how I hate that kind of attention. 🙂 (right)
Here are her edited words with a lovely picture of my former pets.
Oh Deb, I think of you all the time when Daisy is under foot and we have the best time strolling together. I just think of all the good times you have missed simply because one person has to be so mean.
Daisy sat in my lap this afternoon after the garden duty and she is such a wonderful pet. I’m so sorry you have missed out on this. You deserve to enjoy her since you made her the way she is today. Violet is always around and under foot when we sit and rest and Rosie she is too. She just won’t let me hold her but she appears to be just fine. She lays an egg almost every day. I can tell because I have three blue egg layers and there are always three blue eggs daily. I’m gonna miss Daisy one day when she gets too old and has to leave. It won’t be easy but hopefully she will have a few years.
Scarlett, oh my, how I love to pick her up daily here at the house and love on her. The most special hens I have were all once yours and you deserve the credit for them. You are a special person and you have a heart for God’s furry & feathered creations. (OK, I decided to leave it in :))
My backyard, Winter 2011
Busty and Muldy were just havin’ too much fun.
As I expected, Tama was the first one to arrive for purr therapy. Despite her kind attentions, Little Miss Bon Bon refused to rev her motor.
Then, later in the day, Meggie showed up to work her teenage magic on my little fuzz ball.
Don’t cry Meggers. You tried your best.
Finally, around cocktail hour, up walks the third member of the Adams clan to give his best shot.
I’m not leavin’ til I get this girl to purr!
I think I hear rumblings.
Dennis said, “She’s purring!” I didn’t believe him (sorry Dennis) so I put my cheek next to her and yes, she was purring. SWEET! Jim came home from work and found Dennis and me having a celebratory glass of wine on the porch. When he found out that Dennis’ charms worked on Bonnie he was rather miffed. Dennis, Jim says to KEEP YOUR MITTENS OFF HIS KITTENS! Sounds like sour grapes to me dear husband. You’re not the only kitten whisperer in town. Thanks Dennis. She’s still going strong this morning. 🙂
Sounds like a sappy children’s book doesn’t it? We (Jim) just discovered that Bonnie doesn’t purr. We don’t know if her motor is broken, or if she just hasn’t found anything to purr about.
We’ve tried scratching, petting, hugging, sweet-talking and treat-giving, but she just won’t do it. I’m sure there is something or some ONE out there who can make it happen, but we don’t seem to have the magic touch. Everybody has a special talent to relate to God’s creatures in a comforting way. It’s like that horse-whisperer guy, or my Aunt Jackie who was the first person EVER to rock Hannah to sleep. (She was 4 months old!)
I challenge anyone reading this to give it a shot. I’d like to hear her purr just once before she leaves to go back to the shelter. Knock on my door anytime and bring your best game. This kid is a tough nut to crack, but I know someone has the gift.
Pwease help me purr!