Being Cautious Is A Good Thing

   Bat, the Bayou Prince Cat, is normally a pretty brave (if not heroic) cat.  He has no qualms about attacking anything that he thinks is a threat to me.  I have had dogs be protective but never a cat.  Bat is. More than once, he has come to my rescue.  Snakes seem to be his number one target.  As I age, my eyesight is far from what it used to be so tromping around the Bayou is a bit iffy.  I feel safe, however, as Bat never leaves my side and can sniff out a snake in a heartbeat.  

  Lately, things have been a bit different.  He still is always at my side but his demeanor has changed. Where he was always audacious, he is now cautious.  Highly cautious...almost always on edge as if there is a great threat lurking just around the next bend.  It was curious but, last night, an answer to his wariness was found.

  Son has been setting out a game camera recently.  Mark bought this just to see what was prowling around the property while we sleep.  Most nights, the camera picked up the usual raccoons and possums but last night was different.  A large coyote was traipsing just where Bat and I usually go on our predawn hikes about the hillside.  While the photograph is blurry due to the movement of the animal, there is no denying its identity.  Also, it is obvious that this is a predator much larger than Mr. Bat.  The cat honestly needs to be on high alert while out and about...and...I suppose I should be, as well.  I feel sure that Mr. Bat would come to my rescue as usual but, at the same time, there is no need to put him in danger.  Coyotes are not to be messed with and usually where there is one...there are more.  Mr. Bat and I shall have to be alert as we hike.  

Oh, THIS One!!

  Ms. Nycto has not "graduated" to being a Bayou Cat even after all the years of living here.  Although we dutifully call her the Bayou Princess, it is more out of sarcasm than respect.  She is NOT a Ms. Put (RIP).  Ms. Put WAS definitely a Bayou Cat and even earned the right to reign as Bayou Queen.  She can never be replaced.  Ms. Nycto will only be dubbed princess and never queen.  She just is not Bayou Queen material.

  Several times in the past, Ms. Nycto has found herself in the need of rescuing.  The first time is when she came to the Bayou seeking refuge from some pretty hateful people who abused her.  She came...she never left.  Then, after being here a few years, Ms. Put had to defend the Bayou Princess from a marauding tomcat that was quite intent on killing her.  (Yes, actually killing.) I interfered with the attack and the feral tom turned on me!  Ms. Put was aged and not strong but she saw that we were being attacked and she raced across the yard to our aid.  She battled the much larger feral tom until he was in no shape to be attacking anyone.  Ms. Nycto watched from the top of a pine tree where she had to be retrieved by Son after the ordeal was over. 

  This evening, I asked Son to fetch Ms. Nycto for her feeding.  She spends the nights inside the Little Bayou House for her own safety.  This time, Son could not find the cat.  He wandered about the hillside until he heard her pitiful cries.  There she was again.  Up in another tree and did not know how to get back to the ground.  Coyotes were seen in the area so we assume they did the chasing this time.  The cat was high up in the tree and was wedged between branches.  Son came to the rescue once again.  The ladder was hauled to the woods, propped against the tree and Son climbed to get the cat.  Getting a scared cat out of a tall tree is not a fun task.  It took nigh on an hour to get her free from the branches and down to safety.  As we were attempting rescue, the sun was setting and we could hear the coyotes just beyond the underbrush.  To say that was a bit unnerving is an understatement.  A pack of coyotes is not something you want to encounter in the woods especially after dark.  They are sneaky and mean!

  The Bayou Princess is now back inside, fed and hiding on the rocking chair upstairs.  Her ordeal left her a bit shaken but with no physical injuries.  Son and I, on the other hand, are both covered with scrapes, scratches and mosquito bites from being down in the creek bed after dark.  Oh, this silly cat! The Bayou Queen would not have gotten in such a mess.  More than likely, she would have settled the score with the coyotes.  That little seven pound cat was a scrapper!

The Big, Bad Wolf???

  Early this morning, I left the old dog, Mr. PJ, on his bed while I took a hike around the hillside.  There was a slight drizzly rain and he is not partial to being wet.  It did not matter to me as I love the rain.  It was probably a good thing that he was not with me as there could have been trouble and with his age, that would not be good.  He would most likely try to protect me from any predators that may venture too close. 

  Just as I was coming back from my little "Glade in the Woods", I heard some strange barking coming from the marsh.  Uh, oh.  Since this bark was far from the yelp of my brother's beagle, I was concerned.  While the beagle will roam the marsh chasing rabbits, this bark was more of a threatening bark than the "I found you" yelp of his dog.  The bark sounded to be that of a rather large dog and sounded close!  Ok...so perhaps I needed to skip part of my hike that normally skirts the marsh.  

  The first thought that went through the head when hearing the threatening bark was that I had inadvertently startled the coyotes that visit occasionally.  Being unarmed other than the camera, I picked up a rather hefty stick for "just in case".  Edging my way around the canebrake, I came almost face to face with the "big, bad wolf"!  Well, I was not going to back down and neither was he.  We stood staring at each other for a good five minutes before he turned to leave through the marsh.  I could make out his shape through the brambles and this was one large animal.  Without breaking eye contact with him, I noticed that he was covered in mud but, also, I noticed that he had a collar under all of that mud.  

  My big, bad wolf was none other than a German Shepherd dog.  The dog was either lost, dumped or had run away.  Whatever the case, I tried to call to him.  He needed to be out of that marsh.  It is full of cottonmouths and gators!  A while later, my cousin said that the dog had made its way to her house and she felt that it may be a threat to her chickens.  I hope not.  

  Knowing now that the big, bad wolf was a dog, does not make things better.  Had this dog decided to attack, I had little way to defend myself.  I am thankful, however, that Mr. PJ was safe snoozing on his bed.  The German Shepherd was much younger and much stronger than the old dog.   A fight would have been a sure thing as neither dog would have relented.  My intervening would have had little effect on their demeanor once they were in "fight mode".  Until this critter is back at its own home, I think I will keep close watch on Mr. PJ.  Better to be safe than sorry.

Those Pearly Whites!

  Out and about this afternoon, I spied something bright white in the grass.  Hmmmm?  Now what could that be?  I reached down and picked it up fully thinking it to be a shard of oyster shell that had been thrown by the lawnmower.  As I turned it over in my hand, I realized that this was no shell.  This was a tooth and from the looks of it...a canine tooth. It sure was bright white but, still, I had better check Ms. Ez's mouth. The poor old dog did not need to be losing any teeth!  I was pondering if it was knocked loose while we were playing fetch with the old softball.  

  I called the old Bayou Dog to me and tried to inspect her teeth.  She, thinking that I wanted attention, decided it was better to lick my face. Ugh!  No....I do not need any doggy kisses!  I want to do a dental checkup!  I sort of pried open her mouth and peered inside.  Nope, no teeth missing in there and, as I suspected, her teeth were far from being those pearly whites.  As with any aging dog, her teeth were starting to show their age.  This obviously was from a pup but there are no puppies on the hillside...at least no domesticated puppies.   Hmmm?

  I am assuming that coyote pups lose their baby teeth just like other canines.  This, most likely, came from the group that were out prowling in the yard a few nights ago.  I could hear their ruckus as they were squabbling with each other probably over a fresh kill. I assume Mama and Papa Coyote managed to snag a rabbit to train their little ones to hunt.  Perhaps during a tug-o-war with the siblings, the tooth was pulled free.  Who knows?  I just know it is not from Ms. Ez and that is a relief.  I cannot imagine trying to get dentures for a dog!