Silver: “Hey, Paparazzo! What does it take for a kitty to get some shut-eye around here?”
Neither hither nor thither Over hill nor dale had he come To be found lying face down In a state of perpetual dither Scooped up into the nether He was lost But on the fourth day He fell back to earth Dropped by the ether Under the influence Of a blue moon So bright What’s one to do? Other than continue the saga Of Scoopy on a frozen beach Waiting a spring thaw
Jake and I stood on the edge of the river at twighlight and watched the Sliver Moon rise this morning.
The Sliver Moon did not get to rise very high before it was swallowed by Dawn.
Osric Owl. Nora and Osric
Cranetrail
Quite A Surprise
After we came home last night, I opened the door to the bedroom and there was a bird flying around in the dark. Before I could turn on the bedroom light, it flew into the bathroom. When I turned on the light in the bathroom, it was a Western Screech Owl.
I offered my hand like I do to our birds, and told him to step up. He stepped up onto my hand with his sharp claws and iron grip. I lifted him up and he hopped over to the towel rack where we photographed him. I stroked his feathers behind his head while I talked to him, and then checked to see if he was injured. He did not seem to be injured, so I put on a glove and tried to get him to step onto my gloved hand so I could take him outside and let him go. He did not like the glove, and bit it while he held tightly onto the towel rack. I finally got him into a sweater box, covered it with the towel, and took him outside to let him go. He refused to fly out of the box, so I offered my hand, he stepped up on it, I lifted him toward the sky, ad he flew off.
It’s a real mystery how he got into our bedroom. He had to get on the deck, which he could through the 4-inch vents near the top of the roof. Then he would have to get through two cat doors to get to the bedroom. Even though screech owls are small, I believe he is too large for a cat to carry in through the cat doors without the cat getting injured by the owl’s sharp claws and iron grip, and the owl getting injured by the cat.
I think like Spunk disappearing for a month, Sasquatch and the scoop shovel, the Screech Owl in the bedroom will remain a mystery.
Screechy is a handsome little guy. Not happy with il paparazzo taking pics of him.
Laurie’s GIF gives you a sense of scale. He is full grown. He started to relax and closed one eye while I stroked him.
Scoop shovel saga update: Old Scoopy had gone missing for a couple of days after Sasquatch left by way of the portal. I presume Scoopy was out looking for Sasquatch. I found him standing next to a sad seedling that’s tied to a post and wrapped in chicken wire.
Well! Five point seven/eights miles to be more precise. While it’s only a mile and a half between mile marks as the river flows, and the treks to the river and back, plus all the winding around on different paths in the bosque added up. This was the longest walk Jake has made with me since he moved in.
One
Beaver point is at the 194.5 mile mark
Surprisingly, I saw a dragonfly. The temperature was around 48º F (~9º C).
Two
Bushwacking on our way to Three
Three. A couple of dragonflies lying eggs in the shallows.
Four
On the way to Five
Five
Six
The Portal to Seven. Seems all portals look the same!
Seven
Jake recharged his pee-shoot in the Rio Grande by a cocklebur bush at the 194-mile marker.
Eight
Søren seemed impressed. Or not!
Spunk: “Why take a stinking 6-mile walk in the bosque when you can lounge in fresh-dried underwear?”
Silver: “Whoa! I can’t beieve you made Jake walk that far!”
Jake was a little slow after his long mile, and got caught in the skeeter net again.
A couple of women were walking five dogs and let two loose to chase the coyotes. Jake was not happy about those dogs chasing his coyote pals.