My best girl

Lest you think my transformation into a dog person has made me forget about the kitty-cats, this post is all about our furry feline family members. Of course, the star of this post is my best girl, Ralph.

Ralph the barn cat

For those that have been following along since the beginning, you’ll recall that Ralph came with the farm. She made our first spring more interesting by giving us four kittens to add to our little family. In time, Gypsy, June and Rex all moved on to their own families. Our pick of the litter, Easter, stayed with us for a year and a half before striking out on her own.

The kittens’ birthday is today. While we don’t know Ralph’s birthday or even how old she is, she’s definitely worthy of celebration and today seems like a fitting day.

Ralphie is a superstar barn cat. She made it through the winter before we came to the farm by herself, although she was pretty skinny that first spring. She catches birds, bunnies, as well as more regular feline fare of rodents. She also enjoys her nightly serving of kibble, in case you can’t tell from the photo comparison below of how she looked two years ago and how she looks now.

Skinny cat to fat cat

She has a few battle scars, the most noticeable being her left eye. When we took her to the vet our first spring, he thought she might have had a scratch at some point, and it flares up every so often. Some days are worse than others and recently it’s been particularly bad. Despite appearances, it doesn’t seem to cause her pain or impact her hunting ability, so we’ve made the choice to let her live with it and not subject her to medication or additional vet visits.

Cat with a bad eye

As tough as she is, she also has a soft side when it comes to Matt and me. As soon as we enter the barn, she comes looking for scratches. Belly rubs are favourites–she’s such a fierce barn cat.

Cat belly scratches

You may recall that when we first came to the farm, Ralph had a sidekick, Bert. Bert made himself scarce when the kittens arrived. He was replaced by Tom, a very bold male cat, who came around every so often. Once we had Easter spayed, Tom lost interest.

Cow Cat started coming to visit more than a year ago when Easter was still here. Easter left last fall, but Cow Cat has stayed. He’s been around so long that Matt insisted that he had to have a proper name. He is now known as Harold. Harold is still super duper skittish, so we’re not even sure he’s a he. We’ve made some progress, though. Last spring, his reaction when he saw us was bolt or pancake.

Fraidy cat

He doesn’t let us get too close, and he still runs away if we come into the barn while he’s there. However, he will now stay in the barn and just watch us from the corner.

Harold the barn cat

While he may not like us, he seems to like Ralph. I’m glad she has a buddy. She definitely is our best girl and deserves only good things. Happy Ralph day, girl.

Ralph the barn cat

Are you a cat or a dog person? Or are you both? Any tips to help us warm up Harold? How do you celebrate your pet’s birthdays?

Crazy for a full moon

I think we’ve established that we don’t have a fenced yard, and we’re still working on helping Baxter remember he has to come when called. So any time Baxter goes outside, he’s wearing a leash, and a human is holding the end.

As the human responsible for the first and last outings of the day, I love a full moon.

Full moon over country fields

Being able to see my shadow at 6am and 10pm is a luxury.

On most of our walks this winter, I was stumbling over ruts, tripping over tufts of grass, straining my eyes for telltale strips of white–and my nose for the putrid scent–that signifies skunk.

Now that the days are getting longer, our walks are starting to be lit by the rising sun. However, I still have a special fondness for moon walks.

While the full moon is reputed to cause craziness, full moon walks are so much more relaxing. What drives me crazy is if my full moon is hidden behind cloud cover.

Aside: Apparently there was an eclipse yesterday. I missed it. Eclipses are neat enough that I would have given up my full moon without complaint.

What’s your favourite phase of the moon? Is anyone else wandering around outside in the wee hours of the morning and night? Did you catch the eclipse?

The vulture has landed

The turkey vultures have returned to our neighbourhood. They spent the weekend gliding over the farm intimidating animals and humans alike with their dark shadows, their red heads, their beady eyes and their giant wings. At one point, two touched down on the ridge of the barn, opened their wings and stood there sunning themselves.

They are absolutely massive birds. Unfortunately, Matt got outside first and yelled at them, so they flew away before I could get a picture. (Matt’s a bit concerned about any… let’s call it “interference”… landing on our new solar panels).

Here’s a picture from last year when a trio touched down on the barn roof. (Look how green! And no snow!)

Turkey vultures on the barn roof

I still don’t think this photo conveys the scale of these birds. Just keep in mind the barn’s really, really big, and you can clearly distinguish the vultures sitting on top of it.

Do you have turkey vultures in your neighbourhood?

Life lessons from my dog

When the going gets tough, I get trudging. With all of the snow and wind we’ve had recently, I spend a lot of time trudging.

In the photo below, I am up to my thighs in the snow, while Baxter the lucky dog lightweight stands on top.

Standing in a snow drift up to my thighs_

When the going gets tough, Baxter gets hopping. He makes like a bunny and bounds through the snow.

Sure, sometimes he lands in a drift that’s over his head. There’s a moment while he ponders the injustice of the situation and how he came to be buried up to his ears. However, then he gathers himself together and makes a larger leap, charging on through the snow.

Other times, he embraces the drift and dives in deeper, searching for real live bunnies.

This week, when work has been particularly hectic, when things seem to be much more difficult that they need to be and when I’m feeling particularly frenetic, a dog’s enthusiasm and joy for life are good lessons.

How’s your week going? Anyone else enjoying/dealing with particularly deep snow? What lessons have you learned from your pets?

Eating us out of house and home

Downside of the ice storm:

  • No power for 3 1/2 days
  • Broken branches and downed trees everywhere
  • A driveway that is now a skating rink
  • Grasses and branches all hidden under ice and snow

Upside of the ice storm:

  • Because all of the grasses and branches are hidden under ice and snow, the only food available is in the bird feeder (okay, this is probably a downside from the birds’ perspective)
  • Lots of fallen branches give me lots of material to make artificial bushes around the bird feeder so that the birds can scout out the situation or line up to wait their turn

Since putting up the bird feeder at the beginning of November, I have had no customers. Then, on a cold snowy January morning as I was sitting at the dining room table, I glanced out the window and I saw it. A little black dot in the bird feeder.

Was it?

Could it be?

It was!

Finally, a bird had discovered the feeder.

His friends soon followed, and now we have a steady line up of chickadees every morning.

Chickadee in a bird feeder

I love sitting in the dining room, eating my breakfast and watching the birds. This is exactly the scenario I envisioned when I built the feeder.

At first, only the chickadees were brave enough to come to the feeder. When I was outside photographing them, I heard a jay and eventually I was able to spot him high in the trees across the driveway. After a week of building up his confidence, he finally made his way to the feeder. It was neat to watch him cautiously select a seed and then take it up into the tree for his mate who is still too shy to join the buffet line herself.

Although it’s a large feeder and the chickadees are very little, everybody goes one at a time. Occasionally a greedy guy will try to sit in the feeder and steal more than one seed. A waiting bird always flies up and moves the glutton along.

Even going one seed at a time, the birds are quickly emptying the feeder. This thrills me immensely. So much in fact that Matt is worried that I am going to blow all of our money on bird seed and we will lose the farm and end up destitute. However, having gone half the winter with no birds, the 50lb sack of seed that I bought back in the fall is holding out very well. In fact, I couldn’t fit it all in the Knodd I got from Ikea, so the sack still has some seed in it. The Knodd is really convenient though any time I have to scoop out more seed to refill the feeder.

Sack of bird seed

As I’ve been working on this post, I’ve had Feed The Birds from Marry Poppins in my head. It’s by no means my favourite song from the movie, but for some reason it’s all I can think about.

Our birds seed is a mite more expensive than tuppence a bag, but I still don’t think it’s likely that we’re going to end up destitute selling bird seed on the street corner any time soon. So come one, come all. Just try and eat us out of house and home. (Just don’t tell Matt).

Do you have a bird feeder? Who are your regular customers? What do you feed your birds? What’s your favourite song from Mary Poppins? Has anyone seen the new movie yet?

Merry Christmas

Given that it’s the week before Christmas, I’ve decided to keep it light and have turned the blog over to Baxter. In the meantime, I’m still working on the house behind the scenes and will have lots more DIY for you in the new year.

Well, it’s been really nice hanging out with y’all this week. Julia says this is my last post for the year, though, and that I have to wish y’all Merry Christmas.

I’m a little sad to be saying goodbye, but here goes. Merry Christmas everybody.

Baxter in front of the Christmas tree

(Note from Julia: I take no credit for this Christmas scene. This is not our tree, not our stockings, not our fireplace, not our house. Obviously, it is our (solemn) dog. Thanks to my brother- and sister-in-law Greg and Kristine for hosting all of us for a relaxing pre-Christmas get-away. And for taking a cute photo of our favourite guy.)

Getting along like cats and dogs

Given that it’s the week before Christmas, I’ve decided to keep it light and turned the blog over to Baxter. In the meantime, I’m still working on the house behind the scenes and will have lots more DIY for you in the new year.

These photos are old. I don’t know how long in dog months, but y’all saw on Monday that there’s nothing green outside these days. I wanted to show y’all how hard I’m working to be friendly with the kitty-cats.

First, Easter ignores me, even when I give her my most puppy-dog-eyes through the window.

Baxter and Easter

Then she comes closer. I stand very still–except for my tail which I keep wagging.

Baxter and Easter

Finally, our eyes meet, and she sits down. She sticks her tongue out at me, which is okay ’cause I’m pretty sure she’s just being licky and not actually being rude.

Baxter and Easter

She stays for a few minutes, but then she hops down and runs away. When we’re both outside together, she never lets me get this close. I have to admit to y’all that sometimes I’ve been a bit impatient and chased her. I just want her to be my friend.

I think Easter has maybe found a new friend. We haven’t seen her around the farm much in the last little while. We’ve all looked for her–I did my very best sniffing. Julia was saying all kinds of not nice things about coyotes and cars, but then Easter came back one day for a little while. Now Julia and Matt think she’s found an attractive he-cat with a warmer barn somewhere in the neighbourhood. I hope she hasn’t found a dog she likes better than me.

Ralph is still around, and she’s not running away from me as fast now. I think she’s a little lonely without Easter. She still won’t let me get close, but I’m hoping that for Christmas we can be friends. Wouldn’t that be the bestest present ever?

I shall sing you the song of my people

It’s a week before Christmas, and I’ve turned the blog over to Baxter. In the meantime, I’m still working on the house behind the scenes and will have lots more DIY for you in the new year.

As a southern gentleman, I pride myself on being quiet and calm. However, every afternoon, I am overcome by my inner party animal. I blame the Boxer side of my personality.

Matt walks in the door, and I just have to pick up my kong and play it like a trumpet.

It shows Matt how happy I am that he’s home and how wonderful he is and how much I love him. But it’s not at all dignified.

As I come back into myself, sometimes I end up in a no-dog’s-land where I’m not sure who I am or what I’m doing. It’s a very confusing place. I end up sitting there with the kong and no idea how to get rid of it.

Seriously y’all, it’s hard to be a distinguished gentleman when I’m sitting there with a rubber cone hanging out of my mouth.

Any advice for helping me to control my excitement? Or any suggestions of tunes I should learn to play? What song do you think Matt would really appreciate?

Just call him Gilligan

Given that it’s the week before Christmas, I’ve decided to take it easy and have turned the blog over to Baxter. In the meantime, I’m working on the house behind the scenes and will have lots more DIY for you in the new year.

Matt and Julia make fun of me a lot for how much I love my bed. I don’t see why. They have “the most comfortable couch in the world.” I have the most comfortable bed in the world. But they won’t even call it a bed. All the time, they call it my “boat.”

Baxter wearing a hat

I guess technically, with the ring around the outside it kinda looks like a dingy. Boat, bed — who cares? What’s most important is the boat is very cozy, and I can do all kinds of snuggles.

I can lounge on the deck with my sleeping bag.

Baxter in his dog bed

If I feel like there’s bad weather coming, I can hunker down in the hull–of course with a paw out in case I need to paddle.

Dog in a dog bed

Sometimes I like to pretend it’s wavy and roll around (although it’s always embarrassing when they catch me kicking off my covers).

Dog asleeep in a dog bed

Since the boat docked at the farm, I haven’t even sat in Matt’s chair. Now, I just sail around the house, floating and dozing.

It’s a captain’s life for me.