New temporary charges

Oh Lordy, pals... a few evenings ago, I was sitting in our backyard and marvelling what real estate agents might call a "park-like setting" in our backyard. There were frolicking squirrels and a few rabbits that Henry chased after giggling. We've got a lot of nature here.

And if you've been around for a while, you know that nature likes Camp Sinki as a birthing center, which has been equal parts cool and vexing.

I knew there was a Cardinal's nest in our front pine tree. We've watched them collect materials to build their nest and recently they've been making lots of round trips. We've heard peeps from above.

On Thursday, I was rushing the kids out the door to get Willa to preschool. We immediately noticed a baby bird hanging upside down, beating its wings furiously. A closer cool showed two baby birds with one foot each tangled, apparently in the brambles of the old tree. I got a step stool and a golf umbrella and gently moved the branch while two very concerned adult cardinals kept close watch. Everyone had high nerves, so I called that good enough, loaded the kids up, and left.

Henry and I did some errands and returned home two hours later. The chicks were still hanging and had bloody wings and legs. Up I went again. This time I could see they both had thread twisted around their tiny legs. I grabbed them, the nest fell, the male cardinal dive bombed me (no contact). I sat with one on my lap and the other in my hand while I unwound the thread, which was wrapped at least eight times. And then I did the other. They were weak, and their wings were pretty bloody. I took the nest, an old pair of soft Henry pants, and the birds, and placed them in the recycling bin under the tree.

Their mom and dad made several concerned visits before starting the feeding visits.

Jim got home, and we strapped the recycling bin to the tree, about 5 feet up. We figured this would keep the baby birds safe from neighborhood carnivores (including, sadly, Greta the dog.). The whole bird family seems to have adjusted to their new home. The babies may have been ready to start learning flight, but they need some time now to heal and rest.

Photo to follow.

Our neighborhood flasher

Last week, I was at the side of the house, examining the progress of our dill and chamomile. It was evening, the kids were in the bath. Jim was watching them. I thought.

I heard the screen door slam, and heard small footfalls. Soon after, a sudsy, giggling, and quite naked Henry was hugging me.

at the edge

Willa had a tadpole. We got the whole kit n' caboodle for her birthday. Fiona arrived about a month ago, and she happily lived until Saturday morning.

Know what else happened over the weekend? Really great things: Jim came home from being work-gone for a while. We went to Festival downtown: all 3 days. We caught up with Keri for lunch one afternoon. We met our pals the Groens at a park on a fantastic evening.

I digress.

Also, Greta the dog found a rabbit den on the lawn. I didn't know until I saw Greta with a baby bunny in her mouth. She ate it. And then another before I could grab her. It was truly horrifying. Luckily the kids didn't see this. They did however see the remaining babies.
In the morning, I knew momma rabbit never returned to the den that night, which meant the babies were hungry. So, I scooped up the ones that were still alive, placed them in a fleece lined bucket and got them something to eat until we could bring them to the rescue lady.

I went to feed Henry's fish. One was dead.

I took a deep breath and counted to 10.

I dreaded telling Willa that Fiona died. She doted over the frog-to-be.

While Henry napped, I pulled Willa to my lap and told her, "I have some sad news to share..."

She was very sad, "she didn't even get to be a frog, mom!"

I started to cry. Friends, I couldn't stop. My daughter was crushed. My dog was a bunny eater, Henry refused to eat his lunch, Jim was gone... I cried and cried.

And then she said, "mom? Maybe we can order 2 more from California now?"

We buried Fiona and Mandarin the fish in a shared grave under the white peony yesterday. We'll be putting the Frog Habitat in storage for a while. At least until I shake that Elmyra feeling.*



* You know... Elmyra from Tiny Toons. Wikipedia says this about her: Elmyra is quite young and obsessed with animals and cute things (which is probably why she works as a nurse at Acme Looniversity), even chasing after animals whom she knows are her classmates at Acme Looniversity, obliviously causing great discomfort or serious injury to potential pets from her overenthusiastic affection and complete lack of even the most rudimentary knowledge of pet care.

A few zoo photos

Willa ran around the petting zoo with enthusiasm and sense of purpose. She apparently needed to acknowledge each animal separately with her touch. This is a GOAT! This is another GOAT! This chicken can't be real until I touch it. CHICKEN! "MOO,"this is a COW, but it's not moving much so it's not as interesting. Hey dad, did you know there are GOATS here?! Hey look, SHEEP! These were the words expressed with her eyes, feet and ever outreaching hands. The last goat photo is a baby pygmy. For those of you visiting the GR Zoo, they're in a different area of the zoo.

The penguin was not part of the petting farm.

The budgies are in a huge cage. There are probably 100 birds in here. It was a blend of neat and a little too Hitchcock's "The Birds" for me to really enjoy it. This was Jim's favorite part of the zoo.