No Bees Please!

New Tresspassor
Wanted Dead... or, frankly, Just Dead!

Photo courtesy of Wikipedia: look up Carpenter Bee!

We've got three of these bad boys, hovering around the roofline.
My job description does NOT cover flying insects.
I'm leaving this for Mom and a can of Hot Shot!

Ask Miss C; Cart of Death

Buzzy from Lump Gulch City, Montana writes:

"What is the 'cart of death'?"

Miss C replies:
Living in the city is not like living in the country.
The deceased may not always be placed restfully in terra firma....
but in the "cart of death".

The Cart of Death

As I waited patiently in the kitchen this morning,
for my daily bribery... errr... treats,

Mom announced:

"The cart of death has been wheeled to the curb."

She also said if anyone walked down the sidewalk,
they would likely place a call to HPD Homicide.

I hope this marks the end to a repentant week.

Ask Miss C: Rouse

Welcome to the inaugural segment of my new series, in which I reply to questions posed to me by my faithful readers.

Hunter from Huntsville, Alabama writes:

"Whattahell's a rouse?"

Miss C replies:

Though I present myself here as a refined authoress,
prima ballerina and mannerly city girl,
I am also well in touch with my Alabama born, country gal roots...
therefore, I understand the exact nature of Mr. Hunter's question.
For my readers in other parts of the country,
allow me to rephrase the interrogative expression:

"What, exactly, is a 'rouse'?"

A rouse is a rat, or a mouse, or anything in between...
basically anything without hair on its tail, that ain't a possum.
For example, the recent victim of my enthusiastic chase,
looked mostly like this:

Photo courtesy of Wikipedia: Look up Brown Rat!

And yet, had the innocent disposition
and kind eyes of this one...
she was awfully close to the fence, too:

Photo courtesy of Wikipedia: Look up Wood Mouse!

Tragedy in Threes

I've heard it said that tragedies come in threes.

I don't know what that means exactly... or if it's true, but Mom and I just found a dead baby bird in the back yard... but that's what Mom said as she sighed and scooped up its lifeless body.

And before any of you think I'm guilty... I'm not. Honest.

Mom thinks it's a victim of the storm we had.

I think maybe the neighborhood cat planted it there... to frame me.

Punxsutawney Phil was right! Winter is back!

Well, according to Ole Phil, we're in for another month of winter. At first I didn't believe him, since my yard is full of blooming azaleas, magnolias and lillies. But after this weekend, I think the ole boy knows what he's talking about!

According to legend, Groundhog Day is based on an old Scottish couplet: "If Candlemas Day is bright and clear, there'll be two winters in the year." So it goes that every February 2, people gather at Gobbler's Knob, a wooded (as opposed to grassy, I suppose) knoll just outside of Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania. And according to all who've witnessed, Phil ain't ever been wrong.

According to what I've read, Phil started making predictions in 1887, making him ONE OLD GROUNDHOG!

Ozarks MisAdventure: Day Seven, Deer X and Our Return Home

This morning started differently. Mom awoke in a burst. We went for a quick walk. And while I ate my breakfast, she began gathering everything up. Auntie N cleaned and Mom took everything from the cabin and squeezed it compactly into the CRV.

What does this mean for me, I wondered. By that, I don't mean WHETHER I'm going... but WHERE I'm going.

Once in the car, I had a hard time settling down. I was thinking... the beach? Or Home Sweet Home. I would be satisfied with either, but the excitement was too great to contain.

We were going down a steep incline. Mom was commenting to the driver of the truck behind us, to please back off of our bumper. Remember, Auntie N was in the car. I'm pretty sure if it had just been the two of us, her language might have been a little more... explicit.

Then it happened.

Out of the woods on Mom's side of the car... a doe. I could clearly see that "OH NO" look in her eyes as she tried to change her trajectory. Mom was trying to slow down enough that the truck didn't hit us, but that the deer could pass in front of us.

It was not to be.

The doe hit the front fender and bounced back into the ditch on that same side of the road. She slid almost all the way to the bottom of the incline, hopped up and ran back into the woods.

The truck swerved around us in the oncoming lane and almost hit her, but luckily... didn't.

Mom pulled over and had a... meltdown. Remember, Auntie N was in the car. She might have had something different, otherwise.

It was a lot quieter on the way home. Mom stopped at a body shop to make sure we were ok to drive on home. We dropped Auntie N off in Nac and continued on to H-Town.

I slept most of the way. Vacations have a way of taking it out of you.

When we got home, I was relieved. I, leisurely, conducted a border check. The perimeter was secure, my yard and toys were exactly like I left them, and my king size bed is calling my name. Life is good, yet again... at home.

Ozarks Adventure, Day Five, Mid-Morning: BIG CAT and the Turning Ponit

Mid-morning, Mom decided that she would like to drive into Branson this afternoon and tour the World's Largest Toy Museum.

At this point in the vacation, I had no cares, and a little time to myself would have really been no problem. But Auntie N wasn't feeling well... and as I rested peacefully on the sofa... they decided that Mom would go and Auntie N would C-sit. Whatever...! All's good.

Right about lunchtime, Mom took me on another short hike. I knew the program. This was about me doing what I needed to do. Unfortunately, I didn't much feel like doing those particular things.

We hiked to the cross-trail that leads to the marina and down to the lake. Once there, we turned around and started back to the cabin.

About 100 yards along the return trip, and about 50 feet in front of us... was the BIGGEST CAT I had ever seen. It was solid black, had short to medium length hair and a long straight tail. It walked slowly across the trail, where we had (just moments before) walked.

(Many peoples and other pals have asked me... ) What did I do? I did what any inteligent dog would do. I FROZE IN MY TRACKS. Mom and I quickly developed an alternate plan, and turned back around!

Now don't get me wrong, I have 14 feline cousins and two feline neighbors who like to sleep in my back yard. Had it been one of them... or one just like them, I would have chased it to my heart's content. Oh, and I've read the story about the golden defending his Mom against the mountain lion. I would have done that, too. For sure I would. But I figure, this big old cat was minding his own business, so... so should I!

That's what I figured!

Anyway, we took the trail back to the Marina road and followed it up the mountain. I won't lie, it was rough going. For some reason, we felt safer on a paved road. It was treacherously steep, but we finally made it up to the top of the mountain, where we took a winding road back down to the cabin. Auntie N was a little frantic when we got back, because we were gone so long.

I sighed deeply as I sank into the sofa for a nap, but Mom got on the internet to figure out exactly what we had seen. It turns out that there are many big cats in the Ozarks and what we saw was something called a BLACK PANTHER.

Mom called the cabin management people and according to her, they said, "yeah, so?". After that, all I heard her say was "Hiking is over. We have just been NYE-EVE." I don't know what that means, but I'm thinking if I had known about such big cats before, I probably would have just trotted around the cabin chasing BLACK SQUIRRELS.

The Squirrels Need a Contraption

I've spent the weekend guarding the pecan tree. Mom has gathered pecans, from time to time, this weekend. She gathers some, and leaves others. I'm not sure I get the process.

As I lie in wait, the evil varmints throw the partially eaten produce and hulls down into the yard. Their plot, which I have successfully foiled, is to throw them down and then come down to feed and gather them up.

The scent of a freshly nibbled pecan is more than I can sometimes resist. Mom has scolded me several times as I've attempted to figure out what the big deal is. I think they taste nasty... and Mom says something about unripened or rotten. I don't know, the varmints are eating them like crazy.

On the other hand, Mom put some of the ones she gathered... into a contraption... Reed's Rocket!!! She let me try the much smaller and irregularly shaped pieces afterwards. Quite tasty!

The squirrels need one of these contraptions...!

Golden News: Sasha "Trucks" a Mountain Goat

I've tree'd many a squirrel in my day.
But Sasha trucked a mountain goat!

Photo by Scott Root

It seems that Carol Probst returned to her Midway, Utah home to find her golden retriever quite excited about a new hood ornament on the family truck... and no, it wasn't a Dodge Ram.

The Probst family quickly closed the garage and contacted the Division of Wildlife Resources.

Not to worry... wildlife experts were able to administer a tranquilizer dart and loaded him onto a horse trailer. While he slumbered, one year old Billy received an ear tag, a general health check and a reversal drug... and was on his way back up the mountain, home.

Golden News: The Cheetah and the Golden Retriever

I love Animal Planet (the happy stuff, anyway) and fun stories I chase down through the webernet. Check out this great story I found today!

A Cheetah and a Golden Retriever are buddies at the San Diego Zoo!

Zoo names: Karroo and Sven Olaf
Species: South African cheetah and golden retriever (yes, a domestic dog!)

You've probably heard the expression "fighting like cats and dogs." Well, it doesn't apply to this unusual cat and dog duo! These animal ambassadors are a famous Zoo tradition. They delight our guests when they appear in shows, walk through the Zoo, and attend special events.


How did this all begin?
This is actually our third cheetah and dog pair. Many years ago, one of our show areas received a young cheetah named Arusha. This arrangement hinged on one condition: we had to provide a canine companion. Cheetahs, though predators weighing over 100 pounds (45 kilograms), are shy and wary cats. The dog would act as a buddy and "security blanket." So, the head of the show area visited animal shelters until she found the perfect canine personality, an outgoing young golden retriever named Anna.

Of course, one question always comes up: "Why doesn't the cheetah eat the dog?" The dog was bigger, older, and smarter when the pair first met as youngsters. As they bonded, Arusha never realized that he could be "top dog." The cheetah even ate on a raised platform so Anna wouldn't snatch his dinner!

They lived and played together for many years, and no matter where they went, the cheetah always felt comfortable following the dog as she bounced right into any new situation. Finally, when they died of old age, we decided to continue this dog and cheetah tradition. Chobe and Jessie were the second generation; Karroo and Sven are one of three current cheetah/dog pairs. We even have a wolf/dog pair: Akela and Nala!

Sven and Karroo love taking their handlers for walks around the Zoo!

Sven, shown here as a youngster, acts as a "security blanket" to Karroo, helping her feel more comfortable in strange surroundings.

Golden News: See Ya Later, Alligator

Cooper, a 5 year old golden retriever takes on a 700 pound alligator!

"I thought he was dead," said 14-year-old Chase Kierspe of the family pet. "The alligator was huge. I didn't think he could fight it. He fights me, but that's all."

Cooper escaped from the backyard for a swim across the canal and apparently attracted the gator. Chase was cutting the grass when he saw the alligator spying his pet. He threw a cup and a lawn chair at the gator, but it didn't budge.

Then Cooper leaped and the gator followed. Chase ran and screamed for help.

After it was all over, Cooper (search) had lost a few teeth and had flesh and muscle torn from a front leg and chunks of skin missing from both haunches. The gator suffered bites to its snout.

"I never heard of a dog getting away from an alligator in the water," said Tom Kierspe, Chase's dad. "You always hear that they grab them, go under and do the 'death roll.' "

The state doesn't keep records of alligator size, but this was "one of the largest if not the largest" the Department of Natural Resources (search) has seen in some time, said Walt Rhodes of the wildlife agency.

The gator's head and hide sit in Kierspe's freezer. He has contacted local museums and parks
about getting it mounted and is considering applying to get it certified as a state record.

As for Cooper, Kierspe said, "we changed his name to 'Lucky.'"