Milton in the Mirror

Not much time to blog but I thought a Milton Moment might be appropriate.

Looks like that Feline is having a bit of serious contemplation, staring at the mirror in the chifferobe. He's middle age these days, maybe he's looking back at his accomplishments.

Weather Vane

Milton, the incredibly furry weather vane.

It was bit chilly out this afternoon but the sun peeked out and of course I had more time to enjoy the sun thanks to Daylight Savings Time. Fun evening watching the Hound Dawg tear through the forest and Milton supervising the two of us.

Friends??

The Hound Dawg, Copper has necessitated a few adjustments around this little cottage. Not the least of which is an adjustment of lifestyle for The Incredibly Furry Feline, Milton. Hound Dawg is not exactly what you would consider low profile.

Early on, when Copper happened on Milton sitting on top of a trash can by the shed and evidenced an earth-rumbling, ancestral bay whilst hunkering down in a classic "I just treed a 'coon for you" stance I suspected we might have a slight misinterpretation of the assigned roles within our little family. I gather that Hound Dawg may have been of the opinion that The Incredibly Furry Feline was a gift for his amusement. I think Milton has since disabused him of that delusion.

Now, it seems we've turned yet another corner in the Feline/Hound relationship. We may even be witnessing the genesis of friendship. (I think the odds on that would be much higher if Copper could get over his desire to "tree" creatures that tend to be slightly less canine than himself.) Milton makes a good "dog" and I sure hope that Copper figures that out sooner rather than later.

That Coyote's Not Ugly

Last week Fin, Hound Dawg, and I were on an evening ramble at dusk. We were were not far from our little bungalow when another animal emerged from the forest and strolled leisurely toward us. It took a few moments for hound dawg to realize we had company, but soon he was straining at the leash to see our visitor.

Meanwhile, I was beginning to feel a bit anxious. "Fin," I said, "I think there's a fox on the road." "Oh that's not a fox, it's a cat or someting," Fin replied. "No, I mean it. I think that's a fox up there," I insisted.

It's important to remember that it was near dark and visibility was poor. This explains why both Fin and I were wrong.

Indeed, the animal walking toward us, showing no particular concern for our presence was to the best of our combined googling and polling of other people in the know, a neighborhood coyote. WOW, definitely a wow moment. Neighborhood Coyote was so nonchalant about the whole thing that we had time to take Hound Dawg back to the fenced yard, grab my camera, and get back for some visual documentation.

Sadly, the light was very bad and the subject, while not reticent also wasn't particularly interested in posing for photos.

This coyote thing was exciting. Fin and I talked about it all evening. I mean, it was VERY exciting.

At least, it was UNTIL about 9'oclock when it was time for Milton the Furry Feline to come in for his dinner. Then, there was no Milton. I called, and called, and called... And, walked around the house and called some more. Finally, I had no choice but to give up and go to bed.

First thing the next morning, I was out the door looking for Milton. Actually, I half expected him to be waiting on the railing of the porch. No Milton. At this point Neighborhood Coyote was a recurring theme in my thought process. I went back in to make the coffee and stew a bit.

Then, it was back outside to the porch. As I stood there, considering what kind of mouthful my furry Milton would make for Neighborhood Coyote, my eyes lighted on the shed. A memory stirred.

Fin, had mowed the day before. He had the shed open to get the lawn mower. Could Milton be tucked away in the shed?

To the shed I went, calling Milton as I walked. As I approached the door, I began to hear a distinctly unhappy feline alerting me to his presence. Meeeeoooooowwww... MEooooow...

Whew, what a relief. Milton spent a night without dinner and water but as Fin put it, "The bright side is that the shed is decidedly coyote proof."



In other news, and for those keeping up, as of yesterday, the Finman is back in New York for a few weeks before heading back south.

Going Native

Many BethanyC readers are familiar with the adventures of Milton, that highly photogenic cat.

Milton is four years plus and throughout his young life has been a bit more dog than cat. I'm sure this is attributable to his being orphaned in the side yard of my house in Almost West Texas, bottle fed by yours truly, and finding the only other furry creature in sight an aging but good natured retriever style canine who was very patient whilst Milton and his litter mates clamored up and down his fur and occasionally nestled in close for a little nap. This early modeling resulted in perhaps the perfect cat that comes when he's called, sits in laps, and follows you about the house and yard padding quietly along beside.

I'm afraid however that since moving to our new digs in November Milton's been running with the wrong crowd. Somehow or other he's got into his head that he is indeed a cat and is exhibiting distressingly catlike behaviors. Despite losing of his manhood early to the machinations of someone in the veternary field he's taken to going around the house howling like the most Tommmiest Tom you've ever heard.

Also, and definitely more disturbing is that he now apparently fancies himself a hunter. He's yet to make a kill (thank goodness) so we're not into trophy hunting territory yet and I haven't found any dead mice left on the porch in tribute but I have twice found him carrying terrified field mice about. On the one hand, this is very good because I think some of them nested in my shed where I would rather them not be and perhaps being carried about in a cat's mouth will be enough to encourage the field mice to relocate to a more peaceful environment. On the other hand, it is just so very catty and who knows whether this catiness will escalate?

What has gotten into him? I suppose it truly is a case of nature over nuture. He certainly was raised to greater things, it's just that darn nature asserting itself again.

Tail Over Teakettle

Tomorrow's library storytime will be Silly, literally. There will be books about being silly, silly songs, silly crafts, silly, silly, silly. Milton agreed to help set the mood by rolling "tail over teakettle" in the backyard. (Notice he's also sticking his tongue out at the blogging world. Not very respectful, is he?)

Here, in the southern US spring is well underway. That's gotten me out and about in the yard and on the bicycle. In fact, twice last week I made the five mile (one way) commute to and from work. I truly enjoyed the ride as the world looks quite different and much closer from a bike saddle and the weather was just about perfect.

Sadly, on the way home during my second day of bicycle commuting I had the most spectacularly bruising tail over teakettle crash. As the old-timers say, I've been "stove up" and recovering from an impressive collection of road rash and blue marks. Mind you, there were no bones broken and thankfully the bike was not damaged but yours truly has truly been a patchwork of bandages.

The bandages, oh the bandages! Although I tried at first to conceal them, the concealing did not last long and the bandages led to a barrage of questions at the library. It's important to know that I live in a rural community. By venturing out on a two wheeled, non-motorized conveyance I have broken a fast and unspoken rule within most rural US communities, adults DO NOT bicycle simply for recreation or to commute to work. It is not done. This unspoken rule is especially applicable to adults owning working vehicles with combustible engines.

So, to begin with I am way outside of most of my community's societal comfort zone. In fact, my being seen on bike will lead most other adults to believe that my car is broken. Who knows, one of the local churches might even take up a collection for that poor Ms. Bethany down at the library.

All of the above being the case, most people are bit incredulous that my bandages were earned in a bicycle crash. For everyone's sake and comfort, I'd really like to jazz the story up with a fossil fuel burning machine but those are the kind of tales that put you in awkward situations later when the truth leaks out, and somehow the truth always does leak out. So yes, I've had to tough it out and explain time out of mind that "I had a bicycle crash." "Yes, you heard me correctly I did say bicycle." "Yes, the non-motorized kind."

This admission, led one 12-year-old young lady to proudly proclaim that, "My mother hasn't ridden a bicycle since she was four." This was said with much pride and obvious satisfaction, as certainly adults riding and crashing bicycles falls far outside the realm of acceptable adult behavior. (The exception of course being Lance Armstrong.) I think perhaps, some of the library patrons may even believe that I've had my comeuppance for venturing out at all on a bicycle and stealing a few precious feet of roadway from the gazillion horse powered trucks and SUVs that are king of the road in the south.

Imagine how horrified they're all going to be to hear that I didn't learn my lesson and that "Ms. Bethany WILL ride again."

The Watcher

Here we have another of the Southern Toads that hang around the place. Perhaps, you notice that our little friend has an audience.

Milton was quite interested in this toad's movements. (I must hasten to add and I'm sure all of you will be glad to know that no toads were harmed in the making of this photo, or even in the immediate aftermath.) Actually, this guy may look pretty innocuous but the truth is he would most likely do much more damage to Milton than Milton would to him. Toads have glands behind their eyes that secrete poison and when pets come in contact with this poison it can cause nausea, irregular heart beat, and occasionally death. So, the current educational campaign is to teach Milton to "Just Say No" to toads.

On an unrelated note, I must mention and in fact I think it is quite obvious, that my blog is falling into disrepair. It's just that blogging is a bit of a chore these days. I wish I could get back to the blogging flow but it's not coming easily. I do have lots of springtime photos to share so perhaps there is hope, maybe this blog's not dead yet.

Milton Portrait

Do we think Milton's getting a bit stuck on himself? I mean after all, he is a Z-List Blog celebrity.

I do think that perhaps things are getting a bit out of hand. I mean I've started a whole new, devoted to Milton folder in my photo files. It's just that he's always striking a pose. How can I resist that, really? He just naturally "works it".

On a divergent note, I've been meaning for a while to mention Tenn, or as he is also known Tennison the Wonder Dog. A few people have asked after him and I thought I should fill in my few remaining old time readers.

In my early years of blogging, at my old blog home journalspace, Tenn was a frequent feature. Sadly, for both of us he's becoming quite elderly for a "retriever style". He now lives with my parents as they are more available to take him out when he needs and have an overall better schedule for him. I go over at least once a week for a walk around the neighborhood but I do miss his companioship as he and I have now been family for almost thirteen years. He's not the photogenic dog he once was as his hair has thinned and he has problems with recurring skin infections but he is as loyal, intelligent, and bold (especially if you have a bit of people food around) as ever.