Happy 19th Birthday, Miss Chloe!!!!! 
"I don't believe in aging. I believe in forever altering ones aspect to the sun." ~ Virginia Woolf
The years pass so quickly and old age sneaks up on all of us; it seems like only yesterday we were starting out in school or our profession or having a child, or seeing a tiny Siamese kitten for the first time. She was the first born of a litter of six and has always played the part well. Miss Clover was "the dark one"; instead of being born white and developing the Siamese mask and tips, she arrived a medium to dark tan and simply grew darker as she aged, with the most marbled deep blue eyes. Clover was always angry at something. Chloe has always been calm and cool and collected, with a passion for grooming and making sure her sitting position is just so... front paws tightly together and tail wrapped neatly around to the front. Nothing bothers her (except for that one time at the vet when Clover threw such a hissy fit, they both got caught up in the drama) and she carries herself with dignity and reserve. This does not mean that she will take any guff off of the other cats. Chloe is now the Grand Dame of the household and commands the respect of ALL the cats... even those bossy ragdolls.
Her sister, Miss Clover, passed away almost three years ago and while Clover was ill and blind, Chloe showed her the way to the food and patiently waited for her to eat first. She groomed and curled up with her, even when Clover was cantankerous and in a foul mood. After Clover's death, Miss Chloe simply returned to the group of cats and her role as eldest diva.
Now, Miss Chloe is 19. She has aged a lot these last three years. Her dark facial mask is fading with rounded circles of light tan above her eyes. She still longs to be perfectly groomed, but does not have the energy for all the effort, nor her sister for cleaning her ears. She battles with kidney failure and refuses to eat the special diet, but she looks forward to her Fancy Feast each day and is holding her own with her weight even though she is very thin. Her eyesight is starting to go, but her hearing is acute. Arthritis has made her gait stiff and her front legs are slightly misshapen by age. She has her favorite bean bag sleeper and still enjoys snuggling with a catnip toy. Most of all, she loves to sleep... or, as here... sit in the sun.
I don't know how many more years.... or months... she has. I'm sure she will continue to live her life with the dignity she has always had and will let me know in her own way, when it is time. Until then, she will soak in all the sun she wants and eat all the Fancy Feast she wants and strike fear into the hearts of all the other cats...
what was that? Did I see a slight twinkle in that eye as she stares down Nicky? I do believe I did!
Happy Birthday Miss Chloe!
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Friday's Ark
Weekend Cat Blogging
Camera Critters
Mr. & Mrs. Bluebird... this couple was obviously young... and disorganized.
(Click pictures to enlarge)"A bird is three things:
Feathers, flight and song,
And feathers are the least of these."
~ Marjorie Allen Seiffert, "The Shining Bird"
Again this year, the bluebirds showed up. They were on time and a group of four or five birds snacked at the feeders and checked out the house. But, they were young... the male was lazy.. and chickadees built a nest of soft moss in one day and eggs were laid. The chickadees seemed distressed and more vocal than usual and I saw the male bluebird look in the already occupied birdhouse several times. Then the crime. Someone invaded the chickadee nest, took an egg and threw it against the bay window of our house. The dried protein dribbled down the length of the panes and a small shell fragment remained glued to the top. Who could do this? I would like to believe it was a blackbird or crow or one of the birds I really don't care for; so I give the bluebirds the benefit of the doubt and say it really couldn't have been them, their beaks are too small to carry an egg. Whoever the culprit was, it was so sad for the chickadees as they have a short nesting season and will not likely have another round this year.
Mrs. Bluebird was more industrious and practical than her mate.
Dinner time.
Feeding time... how could one small baby bird make so much noise.
I waited for almost a week, then opened the house and took out the abandoned nest and washed the house. The very next day... yesterday... I came downstairs to the pecking sound of bluebirds pecking on the window and much agitation. Male and female, flying back and forth from the house to the feeder to the windowsill. I don't think these are the same bluebirds that just vacated the premises with their baby as they are supposed to stay with him in the woods for at least a few weeks. Hopefully, it is a new pair.. more mature (although this head butting against the window behavior does not indicate any maturity to the female who continually chatters at him while he is doing it) and perhaps they will build another nest and raise another family. I hope so. I still have mealworms left.
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Friday's Ark
Camera Critters
Nature's Notes
Maggie takes center stage. Her adoring fan, Nicki, watches from afar.
(Click to enlarge) "Nothing takes the taste out of peanut butter quite like unrequited love." ~ Charlie Brown
Miss Maggie is a DIVA. She wants what she wants, when she wants it and lets you know about it. She also makes it perfectly clear when she doesn't want something... to be brushed, to be petted, to be picked up, to be bothered by a lovesick (but fixed) boy cat who has been longing to sit with her, clean her ears, touch her head, sniff her nose... anything to be near her. Maggie will have none of it. Nicky has suffered the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune.. as well as sharp claws across the nose and right crosses to the head over the years. He still makes the effort, but eventually decides it is a better idea, as well as a safer one to simply admire her from afar.... beneath the bench. Finally, a spark of intelligence from Nicky.
Carmi's theme is "black and white" this week and Nicky feels a bit "stark" here. Maggie, on the other hand, is showing her typical DIVA pose... self-confidence oozing from those eyes. She is prepping to take a trip on Friday's Ark.
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Daisy and Nyssa's "My Twinn" doll. (Click pictures to enlarge)Piglet sidled up to Pooh from behind. "Pooh!" he whispered. "Yes, Piglet?" "Nothing," said Piglet, taking Pooh's paw. "I just wanted to be sure of you." ~ A.A. Milne
"Hello. My name is Daisy, at least it is now. I can't tell my mom what my old name was and it no longer matters. I was loved once and then lost or thrown out and almost died in a gassing shelter in South Carolina. I was rescued with only 30 minutes to spare and sent to Richmond, Virginia where a nice lady gave me a bath and food and cut the barbed wire out of my hair and all the mats went away. I played there with other cocker dogs until one Saturday when the lady got me all dressed up and took me to something called an "adoption event" outside a Petsmart store. There I met my new mom. She sat down on the ground and let me get in her lap. I put my head on her shoulder and made sure she knew that I didn't want her to leave without me. She didn't."
"Now, I have a yard to play in, people around all the time, kitty cats to sniff and walk with, a soft bed to sleep in and I have a sister. A human sister to be sure. She is far away right now out in Nevada and all I have left are pictures on the wall and this 'My Twinn' doll that looks like her. I keep looking out the window but I don't ever see her coming. Mom says she will come Christmas, but I really don't know what that is."
"Come home soon please...."
"So, I will just have to stare with my "pleading" eyes and maybe Nyssa will look at my picture and tell me when she will come home to see me. This is my best "come hither" face."
"By the way, Mom entered me in the Halloween costume picture contest at Petsmart. I would appreciate any votes I can get. If you go here you can see my "watchdog" picture and vote."
"Since I love nice dogs and kitty cats, I am going to visit Friday's Ark this week. Mom said I don't have to ride in the car to get there; that makes me even more excited. OK, not as excited as I am when I see treats, but still... excited!"
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A lady in waiting... an American Lady butterfly. (Vanessa virginiensis)
(Click pictures to enlarge)"I've watched you now a full half-hour;
Self-poised upon that yellow flower
And, little Butterfly! Indeed
I know not if you sleep or feed.
How motionless! - not frozen seas
More motionless! and then
What joy awaits you, when the breeze
Hath found you out among the trees,
And calls you forth again!"
~ William Wordsworth, "To a Butterfly"
Early this summer our flowers were almost overrun by these lovely ladies, quite friendly, fluttering close to anything with color, even seersucker shirts. These are related to but slightly different from "Painted Lady" butterflies, (Vanessa cardui). The Painted Lady has four rounded "eyespots" on the under hindwing while the American has only two and they are slightly larger. There is also a slight variation to the red and black pattern on the underside of the forewing, most obvious is the small rectangular red patch with a central white dot that is typical of the American Lady. We have both here in coastal Virginia, but this year the American Lady was more prominent.
Clockwise from top left: Coneflower "Hot Summer", Lantana "Chapel Hill Gold", Lantana "Miss Huff",
Butterfly bush (Buddleia), and Coneflower "Fragrant Angel".
The information site lists the favorite nectar plants including goldenrod, marigold and milkweed. Yes, they did love the milkweed flowers, but as you can see they also adored the coneflowers, lantana, butterfly bush and the coreopsis (first picture). In fact, they feasted on most of the flowers in the beds this year. I didn't see any caterpillars on the sunflowers this year and I really didn't have any of their other favorite caterpillar host plants. It is just as well, since I am still overrun with black swallowtail and monarchs.
Coneflower "Twilight" and feasting American Lady.
The American Lady must be in between broods right now as their numbers are down a bit. Never fear though, these are very prolific and their numbers make them, along with the Painted Lady, the most widely spread butterfly in North America.
By the way, with all our rain the last two days, the butterflies have had to find shelter. We had a break in the weather for a few hours and they exploded... Monarch, Tiger Swallowtail, Black Swallowtail, Clouded Sulfur and Pearly Crescent were all gathering nectar at the same time. I had trouble deciding which one to photograph!
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Color Carnival
Friday's Ark
Sir Nicky... still skiddish after all these years.
(Click picture to enlarge those eyes.) "Everything we see hides another thing, we always want to see what is hidden by what we see." ~ Rene Magritte
Our feline friends are officially getting old.... as are we. Miss Clover and Miss Scarlett have already left us, leaving their siblings a little lost and sad. The ragdolls are fast approaching the ripe old age of 13 and are slowing down; although they were never very energetic, even when young. They prefer a slow pace of life... eat, sleep, sleep, sleep, eat some more and then sleep. Nicky here is still hiding. Such a timid fellow, he hides in plain sight. He thinks no one can see him if his nose and face are almost covered, but tends to forget that 14 pound body and long bouffant tail that sticks out behind him. Right now he needs a bath. We brush and clip and get enough fur to make a sweater for a small child this time of year, but he still needs a bath. If I keep saying he needs a bath, perhaps it will magically happen.....
Early on in life, Nicky had a bath at the vet. Perhaps that scarred him for life, or perhaps his irrational fear and paranoia that hits only when he sees water is simply congenital; though I don't believe the latter as his sister Willow is perfectly horrified but perfectly behaved in her bath, simply looking with a pitiful gaze as if to say... "why are you doing this to me?" Nicholas, on the other hand, ended up with a note on his permanent record that read in large letters... "NICHOLAS DOES NOT BATHE WELL!" His bathing behavior, which I decided to take on myself and which was not one of my better ideas, has become progressively worse. Time before last, he bit me... hit a vein and wouldn't let go. I got him loose, wrapped a towel around my wrist and almost drowned him in the sink while he thrashed water all over the laundry room floor. His bath was less than satisfactory and I ended up with a hematoma from my hand to my elbow.
I bathed him again a few months ago. This time in the large master bath shower. This time with a muzzle that also blindfolded him. This time with me outside the shower... at least to get him wet. His reaction was the same. He screamed and twisted and jumped. I have never seen him jump that high... straight up and then flopping down on the floor of the shower. Then I held his muzzled head on a soft wash rag fairly tight to the floor with one hand while soaping and scrubbing him with the other, then rinsing with the hand held sprayer until the soap was gone. Only at the very end did I run a bit of a soapy rag over his head and rinse that. Then I got out of the shower as quickly as possible and let him go nuts until he calmed a bit and realized that the water was off.
The strange thing is that as soon as I wrap him in the warm towels fresh from the dryer, he goes limp and is perfectly content to be dried and air blowed and brushed and combed. He simply closes his eyes and lays there as if at the spa. Looking at these baby blues... who could believe such a demon resides inside.
Sigh... like I said... Nicky needs a bath.
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Friday's Ark
Carmi's Weekly Theme... Blue
Carnival of the Cats...at When Cats Attack
An empty shroud....."We delight in the beauty of the butterfly, but rarely admit the changes it has gone through to achieve that beauty." ~ Maya Angelou
Well, it took two weeks, a few days longer than advertised; probably this was due to the lower temperatures in the sunroom. I asked the lady at the botanical garden's butterfly room if this might be a problem. She said I could set the box outside for a bit during the day so I did, but kept it out of the hot sun. She also told us that only one or two eggs out of a thousand would make it through the caterpillar stages into the chrysalis and to a mature adult. Most fall victim to being eaten by spiders or birds at other stages.
Monday, July 5th was just another day. Stephen had arrived and we had much to do, so I set the box out and went about getting ready to go out. I was taking Daisy out for a potty stop before we left and saw this black swallowtail on the outside of the mesh enclosed box. At first I thought it was another butterfly that saw the fennel inside and was stopping to visit, but then I saw the empty chrysalis. How could this have happened so fast? And how did it crawl out through the folded mesh on top?
Drying time... resting from the ordeal.
The brilliantly colored butterfly was quietly sitting or hanging on the mesh, drying the wings. Daisy ignored it as she passed by and the butterfly didn't move. It was a perfect moment to capture the magical painted wings at rest as they usually flit and flutter so as to make it nearly impossible to focus in for a clear close-up shot.
Brilliant colors... may fade with time.
The splashes of yellow, orange and blue on the underwings and the perfectly placed yellow spots on the black body... so different, so unlike the caterpillar that preceded the transformation, yet both so beautiful in their own right. We watched for a while... waiting for that first stretch of the wing... and then...
Testing the wings.... female black swallowtail butterfly
(Papilio polyxenes asterius)
She opened her wings wide to the sun and kept them there to dry. Yes, a female... she has only a small dusting of yellow above the patches of blue, which are more prominent than those of the male. We left for our errands and when we returned, she was gone... but I think she visits us on occasion. I have seen a female black swallowtail flit up to the glass sunroom doors and hover... perhaps just saying "hello" and "thank you".
As for our butterfly nursery... we already had two more caterpillars munching and growing. They have since interred themselves, both doing so within ten minutes of each other, but not without some drama...(pictures to come later) I also found more eggs and tiny caterpillars and now there are five more working on the dill, fennel and parsley. I guess we are doing our part to increase the population around here. Now, I might have to get a couple of those more sturdy houses.. one for the caterpillars to grow and one for the chrysalides to mature. Perhaps even getting some monarch eggs to try. I have their favorite food... milkweed.. ready and waiting for them, but so far.. no Monarchs.
Previous related posts: What A Difference A Day Makes
The Caterpillar Chronicles: Part 2 ~ And He Has Just Settled Down For A Long Summer's Nap
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Friday's Ark
Black swallowtail caterpillar, a fennel eating machine.
(Click pictures to enlarge)"We delight in the beauty of the butterfly, but rarely admit the changes it has gone through to achieve that beauty." ~ Maya Angelou
See Part One: What A Difference A Day Makes
For the purposes of this post the caterpillar will be considered a "he" although I really haven't mastered the fine art of determining the sex of caterpillars, nor will I likely ever do so. Also, after my first post on the subject received no comments, I wonder if there isn't an underlying aversion to these creatures in most of the readers here. I know that many of these caterpillars are not the most beautiful things, some are hairy and spiny; even the beautiful tiger swallowtail butterfly has a caterpillar that looks like a big green monster with big black eyes. But we must remember that they have a purpose and a dedication to that purpose that most of us could afford to emulate at times.
An eating and pooping machine
So, here he is all tucked safely in his new home. I might as well not have had the screen mesh around the box, he had no interest in anything but eating. Many of us could only hope to have children that eat their vegetables as well as this fellow does. He left nothing behind and worked his way through the delicate thread-like leaves from bottom to top and then from top to bottom. In addition to his favorite fennel, I put in parsley, but he never strayed from the fennel. The caterpillar grew exponentially, almost a half centimeter a day. I really don't know how many times he shed his outer skin... the book says that they shed, then consume it... so he must have done so at night when we weren't watching.
The beginning of the pupal phase... choosing a sleeping place.
Of course, consuming so much food means only one thing.... poop. Tiny little black circlets of odorless black poop. They almost look like little seed beads with the tiny round hole in the middle of each one. These caterpillars have two yellow knobs that will protrude from their heads if they are disturbed... I disturbed him, accidentally. They say these give off a bad odor, but I couldn't smell it if they did (an advantage of formalin fried olfactory receptors). I wasn't prepared for this event and didn't get a picture. I say all this to disclose that I really don't know if the poop smells or not... the book says it doesn't... but hey... I have to have my nose buried deep in a gardenia to smell what my mom can smell standing six feet away from the bush, so what do I know.
Anyway, last week he ate and pooped and grew.. and grew... and grew.. until he did make the required 4 to 4.5 cm length and almost a centimeter in diameter. On Saturday, the 19th, I noticed a large quarter sized round patch of a more liquid (to put it as delicate as possible) poop. He looked drawn and smaller and I quickly ran to the computer to see if he was dying... and in a sense, he was. When it is time to enter the pupal phase the caterpillar choses a place to form the chrysalis, quits eating and empties the contents of his digestive tract completely. I had sticks available, but even at this time he could not think of leaving his fennel behind.
First he attached himself with a sticky substance to the fennel stalk at the hind end.... I noticed the small space between his body and the fennel and watched until I could see the single attachment. I have since, propped up the fennel and hopefully it will remain strong enough for the duration.
The final skin shedding to reveal.......
Monday morning, I saw a split in the upper part of his skin and for the first time in two days he was moving... not the slow motion of eating, but a wriggling, writhing motion. So I got my camera and it was a good thing I acted as this big change took only five minutes from start to finish. As he wriggled, the skin split and wrinkled up and slid towards the attachment point. There it bunched in a wad and fell to the bottom of the box. This revealed......
The chrysalis...
.....the chrysalis. Apparently, if he chooses to attach to a brown twig or limb, then the chrysalis will be brown. If the attachment is a green stem, then the chrysalis is green. Isn't it alien looking? I think you can make out the outline of rudimentary wings and the long antennae folded down. As soon as the final shedding finished, he rested... completely still, no motion and to the eye, so far, no real change. In nine to twelve days we should have a beautiful black swallowtail butterfly trying to emerge.... until then... we wait.
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Friday's Ark
Sign on old smokehouse, Franklin County, VA.
(Click pictures to enlarge)"If you pick up a starving dog and make him prosperous, he will not bite you; that is the principal difference between a dog and a man." ~ Mark Twain
- Daisy doesn't bark. Yes, she can bark and she has barked, but only once every nine months or so and when she does bark, it is a half-hearted little "woof" and usually only one. Most of the time she is silent.
- Daisy is afraid of her shadow, or so it seems at times. Even a light brush against your leg when she isn't expecting it will make her jump and run. Perhaps this is a result of someone hurting her in the past or of her hard time when she was lost or had been turned out by her previous owners.
- Daisy bathes easily. She isn't thrilled, but she stands still and lets you pour the water over her whole body and is so patient while you rub the soap in and rinse and again. She just looks at you and perhaps gently licks your nose.
- Daisy is also perfectly quiet and still when her nails are clipped and when she has a hair cut. She is even still when her nails are filed with a dremel tool. The groomers continue to comment on this... very unusual for a cocker spaniel.
- Daisy has never met a dog she doesn't like. OK, so she is a bit intimidated and scared of Nyssa's dog Zoey; but only because Zoey is a bit bossy and likes to be the alpha dog and is younger and better designed for running. Zoey runs... over Daisy... this scares Daisy.
- Daisy never met a cat she doesn't like. She loves to romp with Mr. Rhett and he is tolerant of her. Miss Willow, the big ragdoll, is not friendly and she hisses at Daisy.... so, Daisy is afraid of her. At Christmas, Daisy was in heaven. Nyssa's cat Fatness, a long haired marmalade and white fellow, decided that Daisy was his special friend. He walked right up to her and started rubbing his head under her chin and his body on her side, winding round and round as cats do. Daisy was rendered ... well, she seemed stunned. No cat had wanted her company like this.
- Daisy never met a child she didn't like. Whenever a child comes toward her, she simply sits... remains quiet and lets them stroke her head or her ears. Her little stubby tail wags. She doesn't lick or overwhelm them and when they are finished she simply gets up and walks away.
- The squirrels aren't afraid of Daisy. At least this new crew of squirrels isn't. When we first rescued her, she did love to chase the squirrels and this activity was the primary time she barked. Then she slowly figured out that she would never catch them, so she simply stopped chasing squirrels. Now, they have grown to know this... at least some of them. This week, I let her out and two squirrels were at the bird feeder. One ran... she ignored him. The other, just sat there under the feeder chomping on some dropped sunflower seed. Daisy was nosing around and getting closer to the squirrel all the time. Finally, when only three feet away, she saw him... and that tiny spark of excitement returned and she gave chase. The squirrel was caught off guard and dashed across the yard to safety, but not by much. Daisy looked invigorated for a few minutes but quickly found a place for a nap.
- Daisy doesn't jump up on people. She does stand up and put her head in my mom's lap at suppertime... but this is only because Mom has surreptitiously fed her from her plate and Daisy is always looking for something besides dog food.
- Daisy loves older people. She is calm and will sit next to them and put her head on their shoulder and lean her warm body into theirs. When Mom was in the nursing rehab facility after her last hip replacement, Daisy went to see her. They allowed dogs to visit and she sat quietly on the bed and gave Mom her full attention. On the way in we met a lady in a wheel chair and Daisy saw her reach her hand out to pet her, so she sat down next to her. She seems to know when an elderly person needs her company. My brother thinks she must have been the companion to an elderly lady with a cat.
- Daisy loves to cuddle. She takes up over half of a queen size bed when she wants to, but in the morning she puts her head on my arm and snuggles in close. Who could resist such affection?
- Daisy has NEVER growled or bared her teeth.... EVER. She is definitely NOT a watch dog.
- Daisy is a rescue dog... saved from a gassing shelter in South Carolina thirty minutes before being killed... transported to Richmond, Virginia because the cocker rescue in South Carolina was full... found to have barbed wire embedded in her fur when first groomed...she has EVERY reason to be mistrustful, aggressive and hard to handle. But she is quiet and loving and only asks for a little food, a cool place to rest and the pleasure of your company. Who could resist those eyes?
Beware of dog? No, not with these eyes! (Note the long eyelashes!)
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Carmi's Theme: Signs of the Time
Friday's Ark
Miss Scarlett... finely tuned at fourteen
(Click to enlarge)
"An animal will always look for a person's intentions by looking them right in the eyes." ~ H. Powers
Miss Scarlett and her brother Mr. Rhett (aka Houdini) are fourteen this year. Rhett is as sharp as ever; able to dart out an open door in a fraction of a second and quick enough to evade capture unless you are able to grab at that long tail. His Siamese tail has saved him many times. Rhett never seems to learn that it is not a friendly world out there for kitties with cars and raccoons and other nasty critters in the swamp preserve behind the house. His cat curiosity always gets the best of him.
Miss Scarlett, for the most part, is physically fine. She has never gotten over her nervousness and pacing when anyone is around, but she did gain all her weight back after that bladder stone surgery and so far, no more problem in that area. I've noticed over the last year that she seemed to be running into things and being startled by objects in the middle of the room or if we moved objects out in the garage. She spends a lot of her time in the safety of a box, with her back up against a wall or door. Miss Scarlett is for all purposes blind.... no cataracts and eyes just as clear as ever.... she just cannot see. We think she sees a bit of light and shapes but not really any detail. She is able to get around her special places just fine... as long as nothing is moved.
For cats as well as humans... it really is no fun getting old.
We haven't been to Friday's Ark in some time, nor have the kitties seen their friends at the Carnival of the Cats ... this week at When Cats Attack.
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Bluebird Chronicles Part One: The Arrival
Bluebird Chronicles Part Two: Go Lay An Egg And Wait
"Humans have it easy... usually one baby and they don't have to hunt for food."
(Click pictures to enlarge) "Look at the birds. They don’t plant or harvest or store food in barns, for your heavenly Father feeds them. And aren’t you far more valuable to Him than they are?" ~ Matthew 6:26 (New Living Translation)
After the hatching... the fun begins. Both parents pitch in, the incessant flapping and yearning to get into the big house is over... only the needs of the chicks are important. Mama and Papa bluebird work hard, day and night, to bring tasty morsels to their young; first mama shows up, then papa. She doesn't seem to mind that I sit out in the yard and watch with my camera trained on the house. Papa, on the other hand, is annoyed and jittery; he flies in a large arc from the fence on one side of the house to a spot equal distant on the other side... trying as if to sneak in to feed. Soon the tiny voices of the chicks can be heard above the breezes. All will be quiet, but just a touch of the mounting pole and high pitched "cheep, cheep" sounds come from above. Mama has taught them well... "When we are not here... BE QUIET!"
Beetles and worms and moths... OH!MY!
It's quite a variety of food coming in here.. no leftovers, no complaining..."Oh, Ma, do we have to have grubs again?" Hard shelled beetles, beetle larvae, small moths, earthworms... but no seeds. They didn't seem to be into seeds or the dried larvae I put out especially for them. Those bluebird nuggets didn't fly either. Mama was quite the hunter. One evening I saw her pluck a small moth out of mid air as it fluttered towards the spotlights on our house. And with all the rain we had had at the time, there was no shortage of earthworms and other bugs. The babies don't look too pleased with my flash there in the lower left picture, do they. (above)
The Hallelujah Chorus: "Hallelujah! Supper's here!"
The little birds grew and their chirps became louder and more demanding. I couldn't have been easy in that little house with four growing kids and such a small space. Privacy is non-existent and they are all trying to jostle for first place when feed arrives. The largest flaps his little wings and leans close to the opening... waiting for than next worm.
One interesting thing I began to notice was that mom would bring food, go inside and then leave with something round and white in her beak. Papa never did. Yes, he brought food and dropped it in mouths, but never left with a full beak. Then I realized that Mama was cleaning up... scooping the poop, so to speak. Even in the animal world it is the MOM who tends to those nastiest of jobs.
Back and forth; this mouth, that mouth.
A parent's work is never done.
I never saw more than four open mouths, although there had been five eggs. Probably one failed to hatch and the parents may have cracked it open and cleaned out the shell from the house. No broken shells were found on the ground or in the house after the birds fledged. These four were quite the eaters and posed graciously... ok, sometimes without much enthusiasm. And they grew quickly while mama and papa never wavered in their care.
Mama counting heads (Left)..Curious but cautious (Right)
The largest baby was also the bravest.. still cautious, but brave. After mama flew away to chatter at me from the tree and the other siblings had withdrawn back into the house.. this little one dared to watch and peek over the top of his doorway to see what this strange lady was doing. He was met with a flash and quickly scowled.. then all became quiet as they settled down to rest. Their final trials were almost here... it was almost time... to try their wings.
The bluebird chronicles will be visiting Friday's Ark and Camera Critters this week.
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Sir Nicholas Alexander (Nicky)
(Click pictures to enlarge) "Cats conspire to keep us at arm's length." ~ Frank Perkins
Nicky and Willow don't like the dog... Daisy loves them and she would love to play and romp and sit with them.. but all they do is hiss and spit at her. They feel that Daisy, as well as all humans are beneath them... servants. We humans are here to feed them, scoop the litter boxes, provide soft beds, fresh water and toys, and to offer up our laps and our feet as often as they deem necessary. The moment we fall down on the job, even for just a moment... they are there with voices full of complaint ... whining about how horrible it is. Never mind that these Ragdolls weigh almost twice as much as the Siamese and could stand at least one less meal a day.
These two are brother and sister... while Willow is very regal... although it is sort of a waddling type of regal... Nicky is the quintessential "scaredy cat". Nicky is afraid of everything... a true agoraphobic. Some days he seems afraid of his own shadow and yet, other days he is surprisingly bold, willing to take on his sister in a fist fight or fist slap as it is with cats. True, he seldom wins but he tries.
Lady Wilhelmenia Abigail (Willow)
Willow is still up to her old tricks... red pipe cleaners and toy mice... dip them in the water then dump them in the food bowls. So not much has changed... they are now considered elderly... they just had their 11th birthday last fall. But they are still as spry and active as ever... well, at least they are as active as they ever were... so they are not athletes... couch potatoes need love too!
Nicky and Willow both will be visiting Friday's Ark and the Carnival of the Cats hosted by Catsynth this weekend and might pop on over to Camera Critters too... they've been complaining that I don't let them get out much to socialize anymore.
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