Tree Top Home

Apr8

Mourning doves make pitiful looking nests. To my eye they are no more than a few beakfulls of sticks in a haphazard pile but I am no mourning dove.

Last year a pair of doves nested and raised two babies just outside one of our second story windows. I marveled at those those few sticks that made up the nest as they persistently clung to the branches all through the winter, and now, the doves are back. They have added what looks to my eyes to be another scant pinch of twigs to spruce up their old tree top home and are settled down to the business of raising a family. The top of an old tree on a tiny bed of sticks look like a perilous position to me.

But I am no mourning dove.

I’m participating in the April Squares challenge with The Life of B!

Louie’s Limerick

Jun3

There once was a pet dove named Louie,

Who was bit by a cat called Kafluwie.

The cat spit him out,

There was never a doubt,

That Kafluwie found Louie too chewy.

-Ogden Connell aka Granny

Louie. The seventeen-ish year old, ring-necked turtle dove, post cat attack.

True story.

Mostly.

The cat’s name was probably Simone but since she wasn’t caught in the act we can blame it on the mythical Kafluwie Kat.

The bad news is she bit him in the head. The good news is that he is on his way to a full recovery. Still on antibiotics and not quite back to his normal self, he has been cooing a bit again and is currently soaking up the sun as he spends the day convalescing in the greenhouse. In the meantime I’ve put up signs declaring our bedroom a cat-free zone and then rearranged half the house to move his cage into it. Now I’m in the process of running around with a tape measure and inspecting all our bird cage options trying to come up with a better long term plan.

Animals keep life interesting.

More good news- he didn’t lose an eye like I thought he might! (That weird poky thing is just a scab that’s coming off above his other eye).

Free to a mediocre home, one cat named Kafluwie.

(Simone, for better or worse, is Jane’s cat and will be continuing to live with us.)

This Moment: The Under-Appreciated Dove

Mar4

A Friday ritual.

A single photo – no words – capturing a moment from the week.

A simple, special, extraordinary moment.

A moment I want to pause, savor and remember. Louie, the ring necked turtle dove

Animal Update

Aug15

Moving to the new house has been an adjustment for everyone, animals included.

While the chickens walked out of their coop into the middle of the apple trees, took in the fallen apples and bugs and were convinced they had gone to chicken heaven, the other animals have been a bit more reserved in their feelings.

Louie (the under-appreciated dove) was the next to recover. Happy to be out in the living room and no longer stuck behind piles of boxes (you can see his cage in the background here) he’s happily cooing and taking in the activity around him.

Fiona had been spending her days hiding in the bed but some kitty drugs have worked wonders and now she’s out, about and nearly back to normal.

Trip spent the first day wondering why we got so mad when he ran under the gate in the backyard to explore his new home turf and then frustrated by the fact that he now has a normal large sized yard to run in instead of a five acre field.

Then he discovered chipmunks.

Now he’s practicing his digging and climbing skills. Since I routinely warn people about his holes and have recently found him on top of a round bale I figure it’s only a matter of time before he excavates the entire yard, climbs the willow tree or both.

Storm was a little longer settling in. Chipmunks weren’t doing it for her. She was busy doing her best attempt at becoming John’s shadow when she discovered the apple trees.

More specifically she discovered the apples.

Now, think of an apple, how it feels when you hold it in the palm of your hand. Smooth, roundish, firm. Some apples are shaped to fit the hand so perfectly that if you were to sample it and find it not to your liking you might just throw it off into the bushes and find a new one. Yes, what I’m saying is that apples are like balls and sometimes, without thinking about it, we throw them.

If the horror of this situation has not yet occurred to you go read my post on Storm’s Sticks. Substitute the word “ball” every time you see “stick,” realize that Jane is now old enough to throw apples and you will understand why Storm is a very happy dog… …and I am wondering what on earth we were thinking moving to a place with a small orchard!