Edgar Allan Poe, A Black Cat and Thunderstorms

   For the past few days, we have been getting daily rains complete with thunder, lightning and wind.  The storms are soothing as I know the gardens are being well-watered.  It is during these storms that cat and I sit snuggled together enjoying each other's company.  As Prince of the Bayou, Mr. Bat demands that I hold him tightly on days like this.  He still has throwback anxiety from when some hateful person flung him from a car window during such a storm years ago.  The thunder and lightning do not bother him but the raindrops on the rooftop do.  So, my work day ends and I gladly cuddle the Prince.  What better way to spend a storm than with cat cuddles!

  Yesterday, the snuggles put me in a chair that gave me a direct view of the french doors and their colorful glass panes,  It was not long before the sun peeped out enough to give those panes a delightful glow!  To the left, Edgar Allan Poe watched over us as the lamp softly glowed beneath him.  This vision brought comfort as I thought just how much I like the way the room is decorated.  While not to many people's taste, it suits mine perfectly.  The room is filled with quaint objects such as antique lamps, furniture and clocks...lots and lots of clocks!  Then there are the quirky "finds" from thrift stores, roadsides and friends.  Nothing in this entire room meets the "expected" living room aesthetic...from the almost black walls to the red velvet loveseat and purple chairs.  It is just eccentric and eclectic enough to meet my standards...and Bat, the cat's.  He and I find comfort here among the oddities.

Sharing the Wealth

   Bat, the Bayou Prince Cat, (also known as a rescued cat or somebody's throwaway pet) came to the Bayou by way of my son-in-law.  Robbie found the poor, pathetic kitten after someone abandoned it at his place of business.  He promptly brought the forlorn critter here with the promise of it being a temporary thing.  That was almost four years ago and the cat is still here.  This is home.  Here, the cat is welcome, cared for and much loved.  He returns the love and....returns the favor of being fed by often bringing his "catches" as gifts.  More oft than naught, his prey is simply released unharmed with the promise of a treat.  Occasionally, however, Bat makes short work of a critter.  Rats and squirrels stand no chance!  Then...then there are the times that he brings us something quite out of the ordinary.

  Mark and Son were busy digging a new drainage ditch down the back side of the hill while I cut some of the leaves that are a foot deep after our intense freeze last month.  Yardwork is never complete around here.  At one point, Son and I both saw Mr. Bat race up from near the pier.  Oh, goodness.  What was that goofy cat dragging this time.  Neither of us stopped work to investigate leaving the cat to his own business. Mark soon discovered just what Bat was dragging.  The cat presented Mark with a fine mullet!  Yep, Bat had caught a fish!  How?  How?  The wet, muddied cat was not telling his secrets!  He did receive a treat for trying to feed us...and, in a way, he will, at some point.  The 10 inch long mullet was not to be wasted.  The fresh fish was plopped into the shed freezer to be used as crab bait once the weather warms a bit more.  The crabs will be enjoyed by us!  Good cat!!  

  Once this story made its rounds with our friends, several put in requests for Mr. Bat to catch some fish for them!  Not many folks can claim they have "fishing" cats!  Oh, Mr. Bat, you are something else!

Friends That Matter

   I am constantly the brunt of many jokes about my preference of being alone.  I stay on the Bayou day in and day out.  I stay for weeks...or months...on end with no desire to go into the outside world.  Most people cannot understand why I have chosen this life but it is perfectly simple.  The "outside world" is full of nosy, inconsiderate people just like those who question my life.  They insist that I "need" friends,  that I "should" go places and that life "is" better as they live it...not as I do.  Still, it is my preference so here I stay.  I go only as necessary and not to fill a void in my life.  That void is not there.  My life is full.

  As for friends, I have plenty!  I have the type that matter.  The ones that stand by me, check on me and do not question my actions.  Of course, they are mostly of the critter sort but they matter!  First, there is Bat, the Bayou Prince Cat, that has proven he would lay his life on the line to defend me.  Once he even attacked cottonmouth just so I would not get bitten.  The snake was within inches of my barefoot when Bat darted across the yard to attack.  He is a protector and confidant!  I would definitely say Bat is the type friend that everyone needs...plus, he gives good snuggles!

 There is the barred owl that waits in the branches of the black gum tree to make sure the gardening is going well.  This beauty stands guard at night to keep the vegetable plots vermin free. Most every morning, I call "Good day!" to it before it glides down into the swamp to snooze away the daylight hours.  In the late afternoon, it silently flies in to take its post among the branches to keep watch.  I bid it "Goodnight" knowing my garden is in good hands.

  The dayshift of garden protection is carried out by friend, bald eagle.  Just about daylight as the owl is readying to retreat to the coolness of the swamp, the eagle comes to relieve it of its duty.  The eagle cocks its head in the oddest way as I call to it.  "Good morning, Friend Eagle!  You are welcome here but leave the cat alone!"  (So far, the eagle has only made one attempt at catching Bat.  The cat, thankfully, was wise enough to dart under the pier.) 

  Other friends include the watersnake in the pond, the black racer under the back steps and the ribbonsnake pair under the herb shelf.  All of these are helpful friends as they keep the smaller varmints at bay.  These are good friends, indeed, and all are welcome to stay.

  So...along with the myriad of other critters around, I have friends...lots of them.  They are unassuming, trustworthy and surely NOT busybodies.  They mind their own business and I do mine.  Let others feel the need to poke and pry...to gossip and fret...to go into rages at the drop of a hat...and be everything that I do not want to be.  I shall stay (as my sister-in-law says) the Hermitess of the Bayou.  I shall continue to do things the "old way", keep being the "Keeper of Weird and Wonderful Things" and always be just who I am whether others agree with it or not. 

 

The Velvet Throne And The Very Ill Prince

   The Little Bayou House holds a wide variety of "treasures".  By anybody else's standards, these so-called treasures are mostly clutter.  By my standards...I do not care what others think...my house...my treasures.  That said, one has to have an understanding that these items should perhaps more properly be defined as oddities than treasures but it is all a matter of perspective.  I see them as treasures so that is how it is.  In the living room, there is a very old settee and rocker set.  The set is covered in red velvet which definitely not what one would think to find in a place like the Little Bayou House but I have it simply because it reminds me so much of my great-grandparents' house.  That set started the eclectic, eccentric theme for the whole room..."Anything Goes".  

  Mr. Bat, the Bayou Prince has recently been very ill.  The cat gave us quite the scare when he showed up one evening intensely lethargic and feverish.  A trip to the veterinary clinic found him with a viral infection and extremely dehydrated.  After a complete checkup, two shots and an IV, he was sent home.  The poor cat was miserable.  He slept...and slept...and slept.  For days there was nothing but sleeping...no eating, drinking, bodily functions nor movement.  Son and I tried to keep him hydrated with syringes of water but there was not much else we could do.  Days went by with no change.  We would be elated when he would sluggishly move from one sleeping spot to another. It has been heart-wrenching to see him in this state.  Thankfully, after a full week, he seems to be on the mend...I hope.  At least, he is a bit more mobile and is making attempts to eat and drink.  

   It was during that illness that the Bayou Prince found his throne.  Yep, the red velvet settee became a favorite sleeping spot.  It was either there or on a dining room chair.  Occasionally, he would rouse enough to change locations with the throne being his favorite in the late afternoon when the sun streamed through the west windows and warmed the settee.  He would stay curled up there until late evening and then move back to the chair for the night.  While some would argue that an ill animal should not be "on the furniture", I feel it is his house, too.  The Little Bayou House is his castle, hence, the settee can be his throne.  After all, if he is going to be a prince, Bat deserves a throne!  Get well, little one. You are using up those "nine lives" way too fast.  You have been through enough in your short life from being discarded like trash by your previous owner to being bitten by a cottonmouth and now this debilitating illness.  You can stay on your red velvet throne as long as necessary.

Those Magical, Purple Skies!

  As is my habit, I was up before the sun even thought about peeping over the pines on the far side of the Bayou. This is "me time".  It is the time when I can collect my thoughts without interruption.  It is the time when I can soak in as much tranquility as the Bayou can muster.  This time is usually spent alone as the menfolk in the household are still fast asleep but, lately, Bat, the Bayou Prince Cat, has been joining me.  He and I sit on the pier and stare eastward at the kaleidoscopic colors of the breaking dawn.  We sit quietly enjoying our togetherness.  We both can "feel" the beauty deep down in our souls.  He is a good cat.

  While this morning offered not a gorgeous sunrise due to the heavy fog, yesterday morning was quite different.  The whole eastern sky was on a temperature scale ranging from the palest of yellows to the deepest of purples.  (Those who crochet will grasp the reference to "temperature scale".  Everyone else...use your imagination.) The purple is what was the most stunning.  At one point the entire sky was purple except for a wee yellow line on the horizon.  This purple is not that rare of an occurrence.  You just have to be there at the right time.  The purple is caused by a temperature change in the upper part of the atmosphere during certain times of the year.  It seems that cooler air reflects the sun's light in different ways and makes the sky appear purple at times. Works for me.  

  Speaking of change, if you are so inclined to believe things, that purple sky can be seen as a harbinger of greater change in life.  A natural phenomenon can bring vast change in the way we see things or how we deal with things.  If a purple sky brings you joy, then sit back and enjoy it for it will be a fleeting thing.  Then ponder if there is anything YOU can do to change what needs to be amended.  Life is good...you may as well let it be magical.

  

Tempting Fate!

   I have to admit that Bat, the Bayou Prince Cat, amused me when he decided to take a nap in the old cast iron pot.  Obviously, the pot was toasty warm which made it the perfect place for a snooze on a chilly day.  Well, he is at it again!  This evening, I lit a fire in the old cast iron wood-burning stove.  This is an antique cookstove that has top plate burners and a working oven.  The oven warms nicely but unless the fire is kept stoked and the door closed, it never gets overly hot.  It stays nice and warm but not "burn to the touch" hot.  While in use, I keep the oven door open so the heat can enter the room.  The oven door being flat open almost on the floor also provides a convenient place to stack a few "fire sticks" as my granddaughter calls them.  It only takes a handful to keep the old stove going for some time.  Mr. Bat has decided that the open oven is an "open invitation".  That silly cat moved into the oven as a napping spot! I am really going to have to watch him this winter so he does not decide to jump on top of the stove!  THAT does get really hot...hot enough to burn his paws.

  Never before has any of our bayou cats taken a liking to sleeping inside the oven but this cat is way different than any of the others.  He is far more inquisitive and far more adventurous.  Given a half of chance, he will attempt anything.  He is one goofy daredevil and is going to find himself in a heap of trouble some day.  He has already been bitten by a cottonmouth (dry bite, thankfully), chased by the eagle (smart enough to dive under the pier) and has taken a swim in the Bay (his doings).  His nine lives are going to be used up quickly if he does not start being a bit more careful.  Sleeping inside an oven may not be helping matters much!  Oh, Bat!  You are one silly cat!

Cookpot or Cat Bed?

   I have been working at a fast pace to get the winter garden in the ground and redo most of the Little Bayou House.  It makes me feel good that the garden is at that point where it needs to just do its garden thing and the house is almost ready for holiday company then decorating for Christmas.  Whew!  Doing all of that left me weary, to say the least.  So, a new chore came to mind. 

  Hurricane Katrina (years ago) left me with all sorts of stuff.  Being one who hates to waste anything, I tried to repurpose or reuse my "finds".  There were treasures to be found in all that destruction!  The mountains of debris held so many things that just needed to be reworked to be perfectly good again.  It did surprise me to find so many cast iron pots among the debris.  How in the world did they float across that Bay (which is the only place they could have come from).  Cast iron is heavy!  It does not float!  Still, I dug out several nice pots and matching lids.  Some were cleaned and refurbished and given to those in need. Some I kept.  One nice sized dutch oven with lid was plopped in the back of the greenhouse and forgotten.  It was waiting for an opportune moment to be refurbished. Well, that was to be today!...at least, I thought.

  Since bringing the heavy pot up to the front steps, the thing has been claimed!  No, the original owners did not stop by and say "Hey, that is my pot that I lost during the hurricane!" (If that had been the case, I would have gladly returned the fine cookpot!)  No, Bat, the Bayou Prince Cat, claimed the dutch oven.  

  I guess placing the pot in the bright sunshine warmed it enough to be the perfect (purrfect) napping place for a chilly cat.  Bat climbed in and promptly took a snooze. Well, you know how that goes.  You cannot move a napping cat for any reason so the pot sat for another day.  Hopefully, tomorrow will be the day that I buff the rust off and then oil and bake the pot and lid.  Since we are having a bit of a cool spell, it is the exact time to do that as the heating can be done on the old woodburning stove.  Soon, another fine cooking vessel shall be put to use.  That is the wondrous thing about cast iron...it lasts forever with the proper care!  Now to find that cat another bed.  I have to admit that he did look mighty comfy in the pot!

"Bad" Bat! Bad Hawk?

   When Son named the rescued kitten last year, he took the "b" from black and the "at" from cat and squished them together to make "Bat".  He said that it could fit in so many instances from black cat to beautiful cat to big cat to bad cat.  Well, he could have stopped before he got to that last one but it slipped out.  Thus, we have Bat, the cat.  The descriptions fit well.  He is definitely one large, beautiful, black cat but that bad...that bad...oh, geez!

  Actually, Bat is not truly a bad cat.  He is just a cat being a cat.  This morning, that "being a cat" got him a good scolding.  Bat proudly led us to a bird...not just any bird...he brought us right to a dead rail.  Oh, my.  Bat, did you kill that bird??  How in the world could he catch a rail?  Never before have any of our outdoor cats gone hunting in the marsh to find a rail but, well, Bat is not any of our other cats.  He is different, to say the least.  He is definitely a hunter and in just a year's time of teaching himself, he has mastered the art of blending in with his surroundings.  He has the silent walk down pat and can leap far beyond what seems logical.  And...did I mention...he is large...very large...not fat...just one big, muscle-bound cat.  Critters do not stand a chance against him if he takes a notion of smacking them.  

  The photo above is not of the bird that was killed as it was from several years ago.  It was the same type and perhaps one of this one's brood. The killing of any rail saddens me as they are some of my critter friends...thus the scolding.  I cannot be 100% certain that Bat caught the bird but he was suspiciously happy with the "finding" of the...ummm...dead bird.  I buried the little bird in the garden and was returning the shovel to the greenhouse when I heard a ruckus down behind the canebrake.  THAT BAT!!!  I scurried down to the marsh edge to hear yet another rail in distress.  I was ready to smack a cat when a hawk flew up from the mudflat with a bird in its clutches!  Oh, my.  Maybe I scolded Bat to quickly?  Maybe Bat had just found the bird after the hawk dropped it?  Maybe the hawk was the culprit all along?  Well...perhaps the scolding will make Bat think twice about catching a bird.  Probably not.  Bad Cat!!!  Bad Hawk!!  

Rooftop Bat

   It always frets me when the "Neighborhood Watch Clan of the Critter World" sets up a clamor.  This means that something is amiss on the Bayou.  This neighborhood watch program consists of mainly blue jays in the beginning but then they are joined by just about every other bird in the county, so it seems.  The cacophony is almost deafening but usually that is a good thing because any predator hates to be noticed.  The ruckus, alone, can often be enough to deter a potential problem.  Usually...but not always.

  Early this morning, I heard the jays starting to call and soon a panic was set forth among all birds.  Since I was heading out to pick yet more figs, I decided to investigate just what was upsetting the birds.  Well, it seems that the whole center of attention was near the fig trees!  I pondered if a snake had crawled up under the trees.  That would be a bit iffy for me as the sun was just rising and a snake would be difficult to see among the shadows under the trees.  Standing still to get a better idea of just where the birds were focusing, it soon came apparent that the greenhouse roof was where the culprit was.  Hmmm?  I eased my way around to that side of the trees.  Yep!  There it was!

  Up on the rooftop, Bat, the Bayou Cat, was lounging about like everything was right with the world.  He was paying no attention to the thirty or so birds that were yelling at him.  In fact, I think the cat was sleeping!  I called to him..."Bat-Bat, what are you doing up there?"  He lazily rolled back his head and blinked as if to say "Woman!  Why are you disturbing my sleep?"  

  I suppose I should be appreciative of the cat being on the rooftop near the fig trees.  At least, the birds were in an uproar about his presence and were leaving the figs for me to pick!  Good cat!  In fact, I have noticed that lately under the fig trees, atop the greenhouse and in the vegetable garden are his choices of lounging areas.  I am all for it.  Bat makes a great watch-cat!

Not a fun find.

   So the dreary days carry on and I am about as dismal as they come.  While I love a good rainy day, there is too much to be done to be confined indoors.  The gardens are becoming overgrown, the oak leaves are falling in mounds and the garden paths are being washed away by the torrential rains.  I do not need to be stuck indoors while letting the place run amok.

  At one point, I could stand it no longer so I slipped out the back door.  A drizzly rain still fell but I was bound and determined to be outside.  Since working in the Small Gardens was a bad idea, I headed to the woods.  There, the tree canopy would offer some protection...not much...but some.  The ground was soggy causing the footsteps to be muffled.  I am quite sure if Bat, the cat, had not been tagging along with me, my other critter friends would have been freer with their visits.  He has a way of putting a damper on my critter communications...we will have to work on that.  Instead of critter finds, I found something I wish I could have avoided.  Some rather large stinkhorns had popped up right next to the path.  These things were huge at about six inches tall and over an inch in diameter.  This was the first time I have ever noticed this type of stinkhorn and with its proximity to rotting hurricane debris, I had to wonder if perhaps this, too, washed in on the tide.  To be honest, I could have done without finding the stinkhorns.  They are not a favorite for obvious reasons.  Shortly after finding the fungi, Bat, the cat, thought it would be great fun to attack them.  Thus ended my escape.  It was time for a cat bath...not fun, either. 

Bat Attack On The Mushrooms!

   The trouble with inheriting cats from other places, is they are curious as to the doings of the Bayou and surrounding areas.  The "throwaway" cat that came to live at the Little Bayou House is no different.  Add to the fact that "Bat" is still actually a kitten in a rather large. adult-sized body and that curiosity can often get out of hand.  He is never still.  Bat climbs, explores, falls into and literally obliterates almost everything he contacts.  Poor buddy has a long way to go before becoming a true Bayou Cat.

  Today, I cut firewood.  This is getting to be a tiresome chore for an old lady but if I expect to keep the wood-burning stoves chugging along relentlessly, it is a chore that needs to be done. So, I do it.  After cutting and hauling several loads to the woodpile, I came across a dozen or so large oak chunks that needed to be split.  THAT is even harder for me to do now.  Swinging an axe is something best left to younger folks.  Still, since it was there, it could not hurt to give it a try.  I did fairly well and got enough split for at least a few burnings.  

  It was on one of the logs that I noticed some very large mushrooms.  Even though they were a greyish brown, the things were rather lovely...in their own right.  They appeared to be so soft and velvety!  Thinking I should photograph the 'shrooms, I traded the axe for the camera.  At the very moment I tried to photograph the mushrooms, Bat decided to attack!  The mushrooms were soon a matted, flat mess!  That crazy cat is not the best friend of any camera toting person!  He is a rascal!  Grow up, Bat!!

Eerie Light Globe!

   Instead of "Christmas Cheer", there has been a whole lot of drear going on around here.  I have been trying hard to "spice" things up a bit by baking and making candy but that does not seem to help weather-wise.  Fog!  Clouds!  Rain!  Sometimes all three at once...heavy clouds, fog and then rain and back to fog as soon as the rain stops.  Merry Christmas from the Bayou.  This is our typical weather pattern.  Lovely.

  As Bat, the Bayou Prince Cat, and I were making our rounds early this morning, he suddenly bounded off into the midst of the grape arbor.  Obviously, something scurried beneath the greenhouse deck which adjoins the arbor and he was giving chase.  That is all good as that is what cats are supposed to do...give chase to critters in the garden.  There are no lazy, lap cats around here just like there are no lazy dogs or people.  If you want to live here, you have to pull your weight.  Unfortunately, Bat did not catch the rat or whatever caught his eye but his attempt did bring to focus something that wholly appealed to me.  The vision was the perfect way to portray the plight of the Bayou in December!

  Hurricane Katrina had donated us several large streetlight domes way back in 2005.  Since the things were unique, I figured that, at some point, I would need to use them for a clue hunt.  I sort of stuck them aside and forgot about them.  Well, one sits atop a short post under the grape arbor.  The vines have twisted and turned about the lamp globe in the most artistic way.  Hmmm...I may just have to leave it be.  It is intriguing now that it has become "one with the scenery".  The abandoned light globe, the bare grapevines and the greyness perfectly depicted the drear of the day.  There was just enough breeze to give the entire thing a sort of unearthly blurriness.  I like it!  In fact, I like it so much that I am tempted to paint this as artwork for inside the Little Bayou House!  Yep, it has been a long two years, folks.   Being isolated has me swimming in weird ideas.  Go figure.

The Hiking Cat

   After losing Ms. Ez and then Mr. PJ, my hikes seemed a bit lonely.  Both were dedicated dogs that followed me wherever I ventured.  With them by my side, I felt safe as I roamed the Bayou and woods beyond.  While Ms. Ez was a true bayou dog that knew the ins and outs of the marsh, Mr. PJ (because he came to live with us late in life) stuck to the trodden path.  Like I said, the hikes are now lonely and I have to be much more aware of my surroundings.  I miss the dogs but have no inclination to get another.  I am too old to do all that training again.

  Well, I did not want a cat, either, but one was plopped in my lap...literally.  The "throwaway" kitten that my son-in-law rescued was supposed to be a temporary foster but we all know how that goes.  The kitten stayed.  Now, as a somewhat grown cat, "Bat" is proving that he was meant to be here.  He has become my new hiking partner.  While he may not be as intimidating as either of the very large dogs, I am sure he would at least alert me to something nefarious along the path and I have a feeling he would try to render help if needed.  In that aspect, he reminds me of our old cat...Ms. Put, the Bayou Queen.  She protected me more than once by tangling with some threat.  She was only half the size of Bat.  He is nigh on 12lbs and still growing. 

  While Bat is good company along the walks, he still has a lot to learn.  He has not mastered the sitting still while I photograph some critter.  Instead, he rushes in to either make friends or give chase.  He also sounds like a herd of elephants as he scampers about in the dry leaves.  It is all good, however, as I welcome the company.  His presence makes the early morning hikes all the better.  Mr. Bat...the hiking cat!

He Is An Odd One

   Bat, the Bayou Prince Cat, is not like any other cat that has ever called the Little Bayou House home.  In fact, I would even go so far as to say that this cat is strange...very strange.  He does some of the oddest things and some of those things are a bit scary!  Some of the "strange but not scary" things include climbing to the tiptop of trees and just sitting there for hours and wading neck deep into the Frog Pond just to get a drink.  He is an odd one.

  The scariest action is one that he does often.  He will find a place in the house just to sit and stare at the wall for a while.  In fact, this evening, he has been sitting in the doorway of the hall staring up at the wall for about ten minutes already.  I can call him or pet him and it does not distract him from his staring.  Nothing does.  It is almost as if he is in a trance.  

  I have tried to find what he is staring at but to no avail.  I thought perhaps a spider, a fly or even a wayward dust bunny had made its way up the wall but there was nothing to be seen.  I listened and did not hear a thing.  I even put my ear against the wall thinking something was behind the wallboard.  Nothing.  Still...Bat stared.  He did not move.

  Suddenly, he bolted from the doorway into the living room, jumped up on his favorite chair and curled into a little ball.  He has been sleeping soundly since.  He is an odd one...he is an odd one.

He Is A Rascal

   For those who wish not to read another tale of "Bat, the Bayou Prince Cat", I suggest you not go any further.  At the moment, the cat is probably the most interesting thing during my day.  Let me just say, "He is a handful."  From the get-go, I knew having this cat around was going to be a bit different.  First, this is the first male cat to actually be "ours".  There are/have been a number of feral tomcats on the property but none that have actually been housecats.  Bat is a first, in that aspect.  Second, I am accustomed to old cats...not rascally kitten/wannabe cats.  Bat is at that awkward stage where he thinks he is boss but gets put in his place quite often by anything he challenges whether it be one of the ferals or even a bumblebee.  He has not figured out that a little tact can go a long way when dealing with what life hands you.  That said, I should add that he has graduated from being strictly indoors.  During the day, he has free roaming of the Bayou.  This was needed so he could run off a bit of energy before he tore down the house.

  Bat's adventures have led him into some strange places.  He loves to climb so any tree is considered a playground but, lately, he has discovered the pier.  This is all good except Bat has not learned about mud nor water.  The silly cat seems to think if he wishes to "walk" on something then, it should be walkable.  While on the pier the other morning, I had to keep reprimanding him.  He so wanted to chase the bull minnows in the tidepools.  If he ever does make that mistake, he will most likely become mired in the mud.  He will be in a fine fix then if the tide starts to rise before I find him.  

  Obviously, Bat is not a true Bayou Cat, yet.  He has a long way to go to learn the ins and outs of this life.  Things will not be easy for him if he does not take the time to learn the lessons slowly instead of jumping in headlong.  Oh, Bat...you are a rascal, indeed.

The "Panther" of the Bayou

   My dear readers, I apologize (or not) for the endless tales about the throwaway kitten that came to the Little Bayou House as a "temporary" resident while my son-in-law found a suitable home for him.  I guess he did as the (not quite) cat is home.  Here is home.  He is family.  The cat is a little over six months old now and has grown into quite the handsome fellow.  Umm...grown...yep, he has definitely grown.  This cat is already nigh on eleven pounds and is gaining rapidly.  Son is concerned that he may be getting too fat but Bat, the Bayou Prince Cat,  is still long-legged and lanky.  Perhaps he is just going to be a big cat and not actually overweight.  

  Earlier, I was down near the marsh edge gathering mulch to put around the hundred or so broccoli plants in the garden when I heard a noise overhead.  Bat had climbed the old oak tree and was looming directly over head.  When I looked up, I was amazed at how huge this (almost) cat really is.  Even though he was on a rather large limb that had some thirty years ago supported a swing for the (then) kiddos, he looked quite gigantic.  I had to giggle as I figure, that with a slight bit of altering, a photo could probably be passed off as a picture of a panther.  (If I was only adept at altering photographs!)  You know, like those photos of Big Foot?  Bat could be the Panther of the Bayou!

  Anyway, I took pictures of Bat as he climbed about from tree to tree.  The photographs will help me in comparing his size come a year from now.  I am curious of how big he will get, what type cat he is and if whoever abandoned him knew Bat would be such an amazing animal?

Bat and the Hawk

  Early yesterday morning, I heard the call of a hawk on the far shore of the Bayou.  The call was not the usual, high-pitched scream of the redtail hawk but rather a series of short, raspy calls.  The ruckus kept up for the entire time I was working.  Later, as I was planting broccoli in the lower garden, I heard the call again.  This time, it was very close!  I looked up to find a red-shouldered hawk in the top of an oak tree just down the hill toward the pier.  So much for planting that broccoli!  I grabbed the camera and hoped for a shot.

  The bird never even acted startled as I made my way down the board path.  It obviously felt secure enough on its high perch.  I got my photograph then realized that the bird was very intent on watching something in the Small Gardens.  Uh, oh!  I knew Bat, the cat, was running helter-skelter through the pathways.  That rascal had better be careful!  I made my way back to the Small Gardens to search for the cat and found him staring right back at the hawk.  Well, at least, he knew the bird was there and a potential threat.

  While I personally have never known a red-shouldered hawk to attack a cat, we did have an osprey make an attempt on our old cat, Ms. Put.  The Bayou Queen cat came through with flying colors (literally as the osprey lost quite a number of feathers during the tangle).  That, in itself, was a first for me since ospreys very rarely seek anything other than fish as prey.  I would have never believed it had I not been in the yard at the time.  Still, the hawk has the potential to attack any small animal even though they usually have preferred prey.  Bat, the Bayou Prince, had better watch his step with the hawk in the area.  He is not nearly as a seasoned hunter as the Bayou Queen was. 

Withstanding Bat's Attack!

   While they are probably not the best things to have around the garden, case moths or bag worm moths are pretty intelligent creatures for just being a "dumb caterpillar" (not my description, for sure!).  The tiny caterpillars of these moths have home-building down to a science...literally!  The ingenuous cocoons should be studied by people and perhaps some of the methods could be copied to create sturdier homes.  These "caterpillar cabins" can withstand some pretty vigorous abuse and still stay intact.  

  This morning while Bat, the Bayou Prince Cat, and I were out in the garden, I noticed he had scampered up an old birdfeeder stand.  Bat is at that age where everything needs exploring and everything is fair game as a playground.   At the tiptop of the stand, he started batting at something.  On inspection, I found he was smacking a case moth cocoon.  This was one of the first ones that I have ever noticed that was completely made from lichen.  Most are made from leaves or sticks which helps them to blend in with the surroundings.  Well, this stand was lichen covered so the caterpillar chose lichen as a building material.  

  As I mentioned earlier, these critters can make pretty durable homes.  Bat tried his best to dislodge the case from the birdfeeder stand but had no luck.  Soon, he came tumbling down and the case stayed put.  The caterpillar will be happy to know that I will not bother it.  If it can withstand an attack from a crazy cat, it has my approval and can stay in the garden.

By any other name....

   We are finally allowing Bat, the Bayou Prince Cat, out of the house for a few hours each day.   We have been hesitant to do so since he was so tiny and young that we were not sure he could defend himself against the much larger feral cats that have been seen around the Bayou.  Now, he is nigh on ten pounds and seems to be a lot more sure of himself.  Mostly, he stays in the Small Gardens where Son and I are working.  There is plenty to explore in the gardens, small ponds and arbors so he has not ventured much further.  After a couple of hours, he sits at the door waiting to be let inside.  Whatever works for him is good by me.

  It was on one of his outings that I noticed he was batting at something on the ground.  Uh, oh....what was he smacking?  When I checked, I found a mole cricket hastily trying to burrow underground.  Bat was not sure just what this critter was nor was he sure what he should do with it. The mole cricket kept scurrying away as fast as Bat would attempt to catch it.  Without a mom to teach him the fine skills of catching prey, the cat was at a loss so the cricket soon disappeared under the soil.  Rats!  That critter could possibly wreak havoc on the roots of my garden plants!  Bat, you really need to learn what your job is around here if you are going to be any help at all!

  It is all good, however.  As much as I do not like things raiding the gardens, the cricket has a right to live.  Thankfully, this burrowing root-muncher was outside of the veggie plot heading toward the lawn.  Hopefully, it will keep on its merry way and go far, far away from the cabbages!  I hear that they prefer grass roots over veggie roots so maybe the cricket is a help instead of a hindrance.  I have never fretted over having a pretty lawn so let the critter eat the grass.  Maybe I will not have to mow as much!  Now to educate that cat!  He needs to start chasing a few of the mice and marsh rats that are plentiful around here!  Get busy, Bat!  Earn your keep!  So...Bat, the cat chased a mole cricket.   Confusing bunch of critter names all smacked together there!

Bat! The Halloween Cat!

   It is October and Halloween is coming soon but I really did not expect to be visited by spookiness this soon.  Have you ever had that feeling of being watched when you are the only one in the room?  Have you ever felt the presence of someone...something...when no one else is nearby?  Have you ever been startled be a commonplace thing?  Well, the Bayou is notorious for having tales of such.  While I do not easily scare by mere paranormal occurrences, sometimes things do go unexplained and make me ponder.

  Last night, I had settled in to do a bit of reading with just an overhead light when I started feeling edgy.  Hmmm?  At first, I brushed it off as getting a bit too involved in the murder mystery at hand but then that "something is looking at me" feeling got overwhelming.  I glanced up to find Bat, the Bayou Prince Cat, staring...not at me but just to my side.  His orange eyes were glinting from the only light in the room (my reading light) and his gaze was unwavering.  Ok....?  What was up with that?  It was then that I noticed a soft "aura" surrounding the cat.  Well, that was different.  I called to him but the cat never moved.  He continued to stare from his half-hidden spot behind the large post.  I called again.  He never even acknowledged my attempt to coax him to me.  This was not like Bat at all!  He is usually the most cuddly cat and welcomes any chance to be snuggling up next to me.  He stared. It was almost as if he was in a trance.  That soft "cloud" lingered a bit longer then slowly dissipated.  What was that??  Before the aura disappeared completely, I grabbed the camera from the coffee table and snapped a photo fully expecting the glow to not appear in the picture.  

  After about ten minutes of the "stare down", Bat suddenly meowed and leapt up next to me and literally put his face against mine.  He refused to stay on the lap and had to be snuggled right on my shoulder.  Every so often he leaned back, looked at me then meowed.  Crazy cat!  Was there something here that I could not explain but he could see?  Was this all my imagination?  When I checked the photograph, a bit of the wisp could be seen!  Ooooh!  Bat, the Halloween Cat!  Spooky!