At daybreak, it is my habit to take the old dog out for his morning walk. As we walk (slowly due to his age and health), I watch critters. The pace of our hike gives me ample time to photograph anything that catches my eye. This morning, however, it was the dog, himself, that found a critter. Mr. PJ sort of caused a major accident for a beautiful, yet delicate, creature. As he was lumbering through the gate, he inadvertently knocked a butterfly from its perch. Obviously, the creature had just come from its cocoon and was trying to stretch out and dry its wings. Mr. PJ did not even notice. He did a slow motion version of "hit and run". The butterfly struggled to right itself. It could not make the long three foot journey back to the gatepost so I knew I had to help. Left on the ground, ants would have soon killed the lovely insect. I gently slid my hand near the butterfly. It had reservations, at first, but with a tiny bit of nudging, it climbed aboard for the "air-lift" to a nearby plant. The butterfly immediately settled in on the begonia and started flexing its wings and I followed along behind old Mr. PJ.
It was several hours later before I remembered the butterfly. I decided to check on my new found friend just to assure myself that the old dog did not do major harm. Mr. PJ is the type dog that would never intentionally harm anything so no blame could be put on him. Happily, I was just in time to see the butterfly take flight! Oh, happy day! It did the heart good to think that perhaps a helping hand was all it took to save a life.
The butterfly in question is none other than a Spicebush Swallowtail Butterfly. This gorgeous creature is similar to another swallowtail, the Pipevine, but a few orange dots makes all the difference. The Spicebush has two rows of dots, whereas, the Pipevine has a single row. The mimicking coloration does a good job protecting the Spicebush! The Pipevine is said to taste nasty to birds so they think twice about snatching the Spicebush thinking it may taste the same.
Critters are relatively smart beings. Although they do not attend any school other than the "School of Hard Knocks", they usually do pretty well at figuring out what works and what does not. Most animals learn from experience and it only takes once before they have something in their heads as the right thing. Most animals...then there are those that have to be smacked by life a dozen times before they get the notion that something may be amiss. (I know a certain dog that is either as hardheaded as a brickbat or has trouble learning things.) Anyway, all in all, animals are pretty good at learning survival techniques.
Then there is this one...a box turtle. This rascal has decided that the little concrete Frog Pond is the perfect place to get a drink. This does not bother me. Most animals on the Bayou prefer fresh water and will often come either to the pond or the creek. The turtle, however, seems to manage to get stuck in the pond. Not being able to climb up the slippery slope has been problematic from the get-go for the turtle. For the past few years, I have had to weekly pull the turtle out of the pond. Yes, turtles like water. Yes, they can survive as long as there is some method to come ashore occasionally. Box turtles are actually members of the family of pond turtles but do need a bit of shore time (especially to lay eggs). To remedy the stuck turtle problem, I decided to put several large pieces of driftwood in the pond to make a bridge to outer edge. My resident turtle has yet to figure out how to climb the logs. Next step was to make a stairs out of concrete pads leading up a gentle slope to the edge. The turtle could not navigate the two inch incline. Perhaps a series of potted plants with varying heights would encourage our (knuckle-headed) friend to climb out of the pond. None worked. No matter what I tried, the turtle stayed in the water swimming round and round the edge. The weekly retrievals continued.
This afternoon, Mark and I spied the turtle looking rather waterlogged yet again. She was exhausted and allowed me to hoist her out of the murky waters. Water poured from her shell. When finally on dry ground, she hustled underneath the orange tree to dry off a bit. Still, I have a feeling that come next week, I will see that little head poking out between the waterlilies and I will, once again, have to scoop her out. She just never learns...or maybe I do not. She may just be lazy and waits for me to lift her from the water. It has become a comedic ritual.
After a sleepless night with an ailing dog, the morning should have been spent resting. I would have given anything for an uneventful start to the day but that was not to be. As is my habit, I opened the windows in the kitchen so I could enjoy my first mug of coffee while listening to the birds awakening. They always sound so happy to see the sunrise and it brightens my day hearing them. This morning, however, I did not hear the cheerful chirping. Instead, there was quite the ruckus going on near the plum tree. Crows were everywhere and they were not playing nicely. There was nothing else to do but go out and investigate the cause of their turmoil. Crows can get into the most trouble of any critters on the Bayou.
After easing my way out the front door and around the side of the house, I watched as a crow made a dive down to the ground. It was just about to launch an attack on a poor hapless critter. Thinking this may be another baby bird being ruthlessly mauled, I quickened my step. The crow flew to a nearby pine where it started to scold me relentlessly.
Nope. It was not a baby bird this time. The tiny rat snake that had been feasting upon the tree frogs a few weeks back, had made its way to the ground and was trying to cross a small patch of lawn. The crows were hoping to make a meal out of this little one. Even though Son frowns on me interfering with nature, I was not going to let that happen. Rat snakes are good to have about the place so I had to do a quick rescue. It was then, that a few more crows joined the pack. My little friend was not going to make it without my help. So....I reached down, scooped him up and toted him to a shady spot under the orange tree. There, the snake and I sat bonding for a good fifteen minutes. Finally the murderous crows left to stir up some trouble elsewhere. My little buddy was released near a hollow log and I was able to go finish my mug of (now cold and stale) coffee. Oh, the things I do.
Folks mean well. They really do. It is just that sometimes their good intentions are misguided. With the popularity of social media and the welfare of pets. people just get overzealous at times. With just a bit of commonsense and patience, a bit of the urgency could be avoided. Some of the "found pets" would rather not be found at all since they are supposed to be wild. Today, there was just such an incident where a well-meaning lady thought she saw one thing and it turned out to be something totally different. The "swat crew" of animal rescue folks was called to retrieve "two beautiful, blue finches that are on the loose!" After all of the hullabaloo that ensued, it was decided that it was all a case of mistaken identity. Social media on high alert! Animal Rescue notified! Two hours of searching for pet birds! Nary a "beautiful, blue finch" found. On the other hand, I have seen lots of Indigo Buntings flitting about the place!
While not everyone knows an Indigo Bunting from a bedbug, it is sometimes wise to check things first. Folks at the animal rescue place should have been aware that it is the season for these little birds to be moving through the area as they migrate. They come twice a year, stop in for a few days then hurry on their way.
I had read the urgent request for help early in the day then set about painting the front door. While I worked I had the windows all flung open to take advantage of the wonderful breeze that comes off of the water. The sound of birds singing, squirrels fussing and waves hitting the marsh made for a pleasant work atmosphere. At one point a flash of blue caught my eye. I peered out the window and saw the "beautiful, blue finch" also known as an Indigo Bunting searching for seeds under the rose arbor. Sweet! Then, it dawned on me what had caused all of the commotion down the road a ways. Bless their hearts, I felt for those poor folks in their never-ending quest. You know fully well that the little buntings were oblivious to their no-show doppelgangers and were probably confused at being chased by good-hearted folks with their "birding" nets. Come on, folks! Get a birdwatching guide book if nothing else! So, here is a photo of a bunting as seen through the window screen. It is NOT a tame finch! That said, buntings and finches are related and this bunting is blue so this case of mistaken identity may be understandable....somewhat....but the panic involved in the search was a bit of overreaction...to say the least.
The wasps have it. Here on the Bayou, if they leave me alone, they can be free to live and thrive. I do not care for the rascally type that will attack at the drop of a hat and that make their nests in places that put us in danger. Others, such as the thread-waisted bunch, can thrive if they so please. I have no qualms about having them here since they are quite the hunters and pollinators.
Today while I was once again toting water to Mark and Son, I noticed two "bees" in the window of the entryway. I made a mental note to free the critters since they were trapped between the screen and window panes. This was no life for any critters but before I set them free, I decided to photograph them. Even though they were trapped like sitting ducks, the photography session did not go well. These "ducks" were not sitting! The wasps were speeding around the window screen in a tizzy! Not once did they stop long enough for the camera to get a clear photograph. They were frantic with their desire to be free to do wasp-like things that could not be achieved in the confines of their prison. They could feel freedom as the breeze wafted through the screen. They could see freedom as the garden was within their reach. They knew that freedom could be attained if they just found that elusive hole in the screen. It was not there. So, I closed the door to the main part of the house and opened the door leading outside. Now for the big release! I raised the window fully expecting the wasps to fly about the room. Nope. They continued to race about the screen. Well now. It took me going outside and tapping on the window screen to make them lose their obsession. Once they left the screen, they could see the bigger picture and made a quick zoom for the open door. Funny thing, though, you often see videos of critters coming back to thank their rescuers but these guys took off and never looked back. So, that is the thanks I get!!
These two wasps seem to be of the Mason Wasp family. I tentatively identified them as the Red and Black Mason Wasps. Sounds good giving their coloring! Mason Wasps are quite beneficial so my rescuing them will eventually prove to be more than just a humane thing to do. These wasps are not overly eager to sting like paper wasps. They are not aggressive which is why I could safely release them. Be free, little Red and Black Mason Wasps, be free!
Sometimes something happens that makes me lose a bit more hope for the human race. Folks can be downright mean. It appalls me, to say the least. I am not one that gets easily riled but occasionally I just get hopping mad. This is one of those times.
My son-in-law has a soft spot in his heart for stray dogs. My daughter has the same but stray cats tend to gravitate to her. Between the two of them, they have rescued many critters from dire situations. These animals were nurtured back to health and those that they did not keep themselves were placed in loving homes. They are very choosy about the forever homes for their little moppets and keep in close contact with the adoptive homes. They learned that lesson the hard way as one of the pups wound up in another unsavory situation. The adoptive folks did not care for that poor pup and she wound up pregnant and back on the streets. All I can say about that is....stupid, heartless people do not deserve to have animals. I cannot blame Robbie and Elizabeth for wanting to help the lost or tossed pets. I do the same. Both of our cats sort of adopted us and have stayed on for the duration. Ms. Put and Ms. Nycto are permanent fixtures here on the Bayou and I would not have it any other way. Ms. Ez, the old Bayou Dog, was one that Elizabeth rescued from some not-so-nice folks who let their dog have puppies only to decide to "knock some of them in the head". Disgusting to say the least. These days and times, it is far too easy to remedy the pregnancy deal before it even occurs. Ms. Ez came to the Bayou as a five week old puppy and has never left...nor will she in this life.
Now, Robbie has hauled in yet another poor critter. His heart could not let this animal stay another hour out on its own. The dog is emaciated and its body is ragged with sores from being abused. When Robbie found "Jake", he immediately called Elizabeth with the news that he was bringing home another stray. Between the two of them, they got the dog to the vet, bathed him and salved his wounds. They searched for his family in hopes that they could return the dog. I told them to welcome him to their home. He would most likely be staying. No one wanted this dog. No one cared that he would have a slow, painful death on his own. No one loved him.
Sure, it is going to be a long, tough road to bring Jake back to peak health. Since he has obviously been on his own for quite some time, it will be equally as tough to train him to be part of the family. But it can be done. He can, and most likely will, become loyal to them in appreciation for their help. More oft than not, "throwaway" dogs turn into the best friends. They just need the love. It is a sad world.
Just after dark, the Bayou came alive with the sound of music....music of the frogs. The shrill chirps of the green tree frogs, the warbling trill of the toads and the deep croaks of the bullfrogs filled the air with an unusual chorus. It was amazing! I love to hear their singing around the small Frog Pond for once these critters become active for the season, they will consume tons of mosquitoes. This evening, though, was a bit different. I had just gone out the back door to feed the new cat, Nycto, when the froggy cacophony began. It is one of those things that can catch you off guard. If you happen to be standing in the midst of a hundred or so frogs, the sound can be almost deafening and, well, I was standing near nearly three times that many. Frogs and toads were everywhere! Literally....everywhere!
From my position, I could hear chirping and croaking from every angle even inside. Whoa! Wait a minute, frogs are not supposed to be in my house! Uh oh. I had to get that critter out of the laundry room and fast! The tree frogs will dehydrate very quickly especially in a room filled with appliances. Besides the washer and dryer, a refrigerator and three large deep freezers occupy this room. The heat generated from all those motors dries the air significantly. Poor little froggy! I needed help finding this guy so I called my daughter who just happens to be here this week.
After explaining the situation, she and I commenced an all out frog search in the small room. We moved small items and peered behind the larger ones. Finally she spotted the frog on the wall behind one of the freezers. Now came the problem of how to catch a very nimble frog that is in a four inch wide gab between a freezer and a wall. (The freezer being full was far to heavy to move.) She stretched arm behind the freezer on one side. The frog moved to the away from her. She stretched her arm behind the other side. The frog returned to its original position. Hmmmm, something told me this was not working! Ok, so if we both worked together we could get the task accomplished. She went to the left side of the freezer while I reached behind from the right. This was enough to cause a major panic in the poor critter. He leapt toward me, bounced off of my arm and right into the garbage can! Not thinking twice about it, my left hand cupped over the Froggy and closed around his moist, squishy body. I had him! Now to retrieve my right hand from behind the freezer without letting go of my prize. This was not an easy task for an old lady but after a few minutes, I righted myself and headed to the door. Not two steps from freedom, the frog decided to mount an escape! He squeezed himself between my finger and thumb. Suddenly I spied a pair of large eyes peeping out of my hand followed by little feet and the upper part of his body. Instinctively, I clamped my hand tighter. Big mistake! The frog's survival tactics kicked in and he peed! Ugh! Well, I could not let go just yet as I was still inside. Elizabeth got the giggles which, in turn, caused me to giggle and that was all it took for us to become seriously unable to even open the door. Poor Froggy was now terrified and squirming like nobody's business! After what seemed like an hour of holding a squishy, squirmy, peeing frog to me and perhaps a lifetime to Froggy, I finally managed to get out on the porch. Then another brilliant idea! Pictures! We needed photographs of Froggy! She raced to get the camera leaving me with the frog. She stepped back out to take pictures when the frog had enough of these shenanigans! He gave one last squirm before making his escape into the pear tree!
His leap left Elizabeth and me in another fit of giggles. We did manage to snap a few photographs of Froggy as he tried his best to hide among the leaves. Finally, I think he just gave up thinking perhaps if he posed for the camera we would go away and stop bothering him. Aww, good Froggy! Now go have some fun with your froggy friends!
