Before daylight this morning I was awake. Not that I am an early riser. I hadn’t been asleep. It was just one of those nights. I’m not sure what drew my attention to the window, but out by the pond was a large black shape that I was sure hadn’t been there the night before. Family members often go up to the pond just to sit and look out at the water. It was probably just a lawn chair, I decided. Then the lawn chair began to move. I watched for a few moments, then raced upstairs to shake my sleeping husband.
“Wake up!” I commanded, “There’s a bear cub in the back yard!”
Of course, by the time I drug the poor groggy man downstairs and to the window there was nothing to see in the darkness but darkness, but dawn brought another sight.
This little lady was perched on the lilac bush with her beak almost against the window. As she peered into the human world inside, her loud “Cheep! Cheep! Cheep!” announced that all was not well, and she wanted her people to know about it! The feeding shelf had been licked completely clean and was hanging precariously by a mere corner. It looks like it’s time to change the location of the feeding station for the summer.
(I’m not sure if I have the birds and squirrels trained, or if they have trained me. If that feeder is empty they always find a way to tell me about it. )
This post is for all the scammers and tele-marketers out there that truly believe a portion of my money belongs to them, and that I have no better things to do with my time other than turn off my saw, trip over the cord, and track sawdust across my carpet as I race for the phone. I offer you this information
- It is not your business if I voted in the last election and you cannot encourage me to say “Yes” or “No”.
- If you have to ask if I have a computer, you don’t really know that my ip address is sending out porn.
- Victoria, I know I didn’t win that cruise, because I never entered the contest, and your twenty-three calls still do not make your story believable.
- If you don’t know my name, you do not know that my credit card is in trouble.
- I don’t care how hard you cry, you are still not my grandson, and if you actually are in jail in Germany, tough it out, you aren’t my problem.
- I don’t care if you do have my name, I’m still not saying yes, even when you get belligerent and swear at me. In fact, after laughing at you for a while, I’m hanging up.
- If your name actually is Jane Smith why can you barely speak English?
- I’m not giving you money, I’m not making a pledge, and I don’t want your packet.
- Chances are, if you get angry and call me a liar, I’m not going to send you money. Oh, wait. I wasn’t going to send you any in the first place.
- No, I’m not taking a survey.
- I don’t need your service contract.
- I did not ask for information about a back brace I saw on TV.
- I don’t need senior care, and I don’t use catheters.
- If I were a diabetic, I would not order medical supplies from an obscure company that contacted me by recording.
- If my caller id lists you as unknown or just a bunch of numbers, expect me to pick up and immediately hang up. If you aren’t willing to tell me who you are, don’t expect me to talk to you.
- The IRS does not issue warrants before they do audits. No one is coming to arrest me, but I’m not so sure the same can be said about you.
- And Rachael from card holder services, if you get me out of the bathtub one more time, I’m going to reach through the receiver and tie your tongue in a knot!
And just to keep this post in line with this site’s theme:
To the tele-marketer from Florida, who forgot what he was selling and talked to me for ten minutes about his parrot, then hung up without remembering to make the sales pitch:
You might want to look over your shoulder and see if the boss is watching…
(To my regular readers, I apologize for my unbridled frustration.)
Well, the kids are back early, and they are regretting it. Usually the Red-winged Blackbirds return to our area in great flocks sometime in April, but yesterday as I was attempting to capture bird photos through the snowflakes, I caught sight of two pairs. (You never realize how irritating snowflakes are until you try taking photos in a snowstorm.) These gung-ho youngsters obviously decided their fuddy-duddy elders were being too cautious and struck out on their own. One bird still had his baby tufts.
Sorry, kids. We’re having a second winter up here.
By: The Gentleman Cat
Make yourself available.
Always use the litter box.
Treat their other pets with dignity.
Be there to comfort.
Catch lots of mice…. whoops, you mean I wasn’t supposed to eat them?
Make ’em laugh.
Put up with anything.
And finally… Don’t eat the bird. (I think they’re trying to fatten it up for Thanksgiving…. It isn’t working.)
May your days be filled with polite kitties that don’t scratch up your furniture or barf on your carpets,
Gent, The Gentleman Cat
It has been a very mild winter this year in the Northeast, and I am excited to say that as I write this there are young squirrels playing at my window feeder. There are five in this litter. Usually we only see one or two.
When I was a kid, I remember traveling vagrants left marks on the fences of houses that were good for a handout. If you felt a smidgen of sympathy and gave a gaunt, sunken-eyed bum a sandwich, it wouldn’t be long before more vagrants were knocking at the door. The cure to your problem was to paint your fence. I am beginning to suspect that someone has marked my fence, or perhaps I have the word “sucker” tattooed to my forehead in invisible ink? Anyway, if someone dumps a stray cat in our neighborhood, it inevitably ends up at my door. Gent was the last to be taken in of our local feral cat colony. We were free of outside cats for a few months, but….
Meet the new kids on the block.
The big one, with the fur coat that would see her through an Alaskan winter, is Skitty. (Named that because she was one skittish kitty) She has grown extremely loving in a very short period of time, and walking to the garden without tripping over her has become quite a chore. The orange one is Pumpkin. You may pull his tail or touch his nose, but petting him is out of the question. The little fluff ball is Princess. She is very delicate, very feminine, and a non-stop chatterbox. We really don’t mind their company, and someone has expressed interest in Skitty and Princess. I’ve already decided to keep Pumpkin as an outdoor cat. (We have plenty of warm shelter for the winter, and finding a home for a cat you can’t touch is difficult.)
But how? How do these cats know that out of all of the houses in the neighborhood this is the one to come to? How do they know which person will run into the house to get them a plate of cat food and a bowl of milk? I think perhaps it’s time to paint my fence, or maybe apply a little makeup?