Signals

Yesterday, there was a Great Blue Heron hanging out in the tree behind our house.

All seemed well.

All is well.

Then, he began to receive signals.

"Yes, I read you . . . standing by . . . ."

Preparations were made.

Extending uplink module . . . .

And the bird readied himself for interstellar message transmission:

Ready for signal transmission!

Apparently, the message was:

"Turn your head the other way."

Got Wood?

Today Tessa said, "You know how our horses were listed at the SPCA as a Morgan cross and a Quarter Horse cross?"

"Yes...."

"Well, I figured out the other part of the mix."

"Yes?"

"Termite."

She's right.  Our horses are into really into wood.  Mouthing, nibbling, chewing, gnawing, splintering, savoring.....

The corral started out really nice and unblemished.  Considering that over 50% of the wood is salvaged/repurposed lumber, we were pleased with how it ended up looking.  Vintage.  Seasoned.  Au natural.

Tasty.

It begins like this:

And deteriorates to this:

 Then this:

 UNITL...

(crumbs),

and finally, freedom.

Not to worry, they came home for breakfast.  Sadly, there was only hay.

Paris

This is my girl, Paris.  She is a 5 year-old Morgan, and has stolen my heart utterly.  Looking at her today, you'd never guess that she spent 2 weeks in Equine ICU following her rescue from dire circumstances.

This is how she looked when she was found with 18 other horses who were without food or water.

Here are a couple stories about the rescue.

19 Abandoned Horses Rescued
http://www.kionrightnow.com/Global/story.asp?S=12920685

Red Cross Hero:  Woman Rescues Horse Near Death
http://www.kionrightnow.com/story/14621156/red-cross-hero-woman-rescues-horse-near-death?

Paris was so weak when she was found, she could hardly walk onto the trailer.  At the shelter, she collapsed.  Larry Carr, Barn Supervisor at the SPCA told me that when a horse goes down like that, they don't necessarily get back up.  Her chance of survival was slim.

When I met Paris at the trainer's, about 17 months after her rescue, I worried that she'd be too much horse for me.  She is young and still fairly green; at the time she could hardly stand still to be tacked up.  But the moment I got on her, I fell in love.  I love the way she moves, I love the way she responds to the lightest cue.  She really wants to do the right thing, even if she isn't completely sure what it is you are asking of her. Everyone who meets her comments on how sociable and curious she is.

I hadn't planned on adopting two horses.  But one day my husband said, "If you want to bring two horses home, you should."  And everything fell into place.  Paris and Nutmeg had become solid BFFs while they were at the trainer's, so keeping them together allowed them to emotionally support each through their transition to their new home.  They give each other confidence when we go out on the trail.

Another surprise has been what a natural leader Paris is.  She always wants to go first on the trail (or at least, ahead of Nutmeg).  If we encounter something dodgy (which for a horse can be pretty much anything), she is more easily convinced to approach it, explore it,  and let go of her fear.  Nutmeg takes her cues from Paris;  it's all good.  Hooray for the brave young horse!

I would again like to thank Larry Carr, Stephanie Nicora, Stacy Sanders, and everyone at the SPCA who helped bring Paris back from the brink of death.  And I think I could never say enough about the horse trainer, Kristi Fredrickson, who starts these green horses from the SPCA with so much patience, intuition, intelligence, dedication, and plain old hard work, giving them the best possible foundation for their future relationships with humans.  

You are, each of you, profoundly inspiring, largely unsung heroes, and you have our eternal gratitude and admiration.

Nutmeg

This is Tessa's horse, Nutmeg.  She's a 10 year-old quarter horse, and she is the perfect horse for my girl, calm and collected, but still eager to go out and see the world.  

Here is the story of her rescue.  http://www.kionrightnow.com/Global/story.asp?S=13805271

Most of you know all this, because I've told you or posted about our new horses on FB; this is mainly for me, and for the record.

I cannot adequately express my admiration for the work the folks at the SPCA for Monterey County do, and also the trainer, Kristi Fredrickson who started both Nutmeg and Paris, and turned them into the friendly, dependable, sensible, and trustworthy horses they are today.

Missed Moments

Life is hurtling by and I have missed many, many bloggable moments.  Argh.

There was a buck killed by a mountain lion in the open space just a stone's throw from here.  On a hot August day, we smelled it.  The following day, we followed our noses and found it.  We have watched the carcass decompose; it's been real.  Chigiy is waiting for the skull to be revealed.  We check on it periodically.

We granted temporary asylum to a couple roosters that Chigiy's husband Rich found on Old Santa Cruz Highway.  Thank goodness for Chigiy, she blogs all the important stuff.  The story begins here,     http://www.chigiy.com/the_gardeners_anonymous_b/2011/10/roadsi.html
and wraps up here.
http://www.chigiy.com/the_gardeners_anonymous_b/2011/10/happy-ending-for-lunch-and-dinner.html

A big rattlesnake came to visit one day this summer.  He was hanging out in the shrubbery, pretending to be a sprinkler.  I am very much a live-and-let-live type, but unfortunately, this snake was just too close for comfort; a non-negotiating hazard to cats and dogs and kids and horses.  So my husband dispatched it with a .22.  He then skinned it and cooked it up.  Everyone tried the meat, even my vegetarian son.  We thought it tasted somewhere between chicken and calamari.  I don't crave it.  Ever.  But my husband had a very nice belt made.

My daughter watched a Sharp Shin hawk take down a crow directly in front of our house.  An entire murder of crows set to dive-bombing and cussing out the hawk.  Undeterred, hawk merely spread his wings like a vampire's cloak, covering his victim.  Not one to let nature run its course, my daughter flung open the sliding glass door through which we watched this spectacle, and she and the dog exploded onto the crime scene.  The hawk attempted to lift off with its prey, but the crow was too heavy.  Outnumbered, and beleagured by crows, a dog, and an outraged 11 year-old, the poor hawk abandoned his efforts.  The crow, meanwhile, flipped himself over and flew off in the opposite direction.

And, finally, my daughter has been obsessed with horses pretty much since we arrived here about 6 years ago.  While she has leased various horses over the years, she has always longed for a horse of her own.  I was stalling and dragging my feet to the best of my ability, when alas, one day she discovered the web site for the SPCA for Monterey County.  Shortly thereafter, we adopted not one, but TWO horses.  I won't elaborate now because I have no doubt that the hijinks of these two equines will henceforth dominate the pages of this would-be blog.  Suffice it to say they are wonderful, adorable, beautiful, delightful, marvelous . . . and a dream come true.

Who ya gonna call....?

Today, my daughter has a block of classes, so I have a few precious hours to myself.  I had ripped some new songs to my MP3 player and was inspired to burn some calories by heading up the hill with the dog instead of my usual meander in the open space.

Since we were heading up to the road, I leashed the dog.  I put in my earbuds and went grooving along past the barn. Suddenly, the dog did a major double-take.  I turned to look at what caught her attention, and was very surprised to see a Striped Skunk wandering, or attempting to wander down the neighbor's fire road. Having seen the dog, the skunk adopted the defensive tail-up position.  I froze, watching.  Then the skunk took two wonky steps and collapsed.  

Skunk down!

It's really wrong to see a skunk wandering about in daylight.  If you see one, be wary. (In California, skunks are a primary carrier of rabies).  Based on the lurching/collapsing in the middle of the day, I immediately went home and called Wildlife Rescue. I explained the situation; they gave me the phone number for San Jose Animal Services.  

Alas, we live outside their jurisdiction; I was transferred to County Animal Services.  The county "doesn't handle skunks," I was told, and I should call Vector Control.  Oh, and by the way, they will kill the animal.  Given that he was in pretty terrible shape anyway, I actually thought this might not be a bad solution.  But it turns out that Vector Control also will not come out for a "dying or dead skunk."  

What???   

Here we have a potentially dangerous animal in clear distress, wandering around an area where there are plenty of unsuspecting kids and dogs.  And NO ONE will come to catch it or kill it? That seems pretty odd to me.  I guess you're on your own up here.

So I made another call to Wildlife Rescue.  They said they could take the skunk, and that recently, they had successfully rehabilitated a skunk who had ingested poison.  But they had no one who could pick him up.

So, it came down to me to get this poor creature to anywhere that he might be helped to recover, or put out of his misery.  Wildlife Rescue kindly offered to have one of their skunk experts call me to advise me on the handling/transport.

Basically, a skunk is very shy, non-aggressive.  I know this.  But they spray.  The dog has been skunked twice. It is intense and nauseating, and de-skunking is a big pain.  I was pretty sure that my attempt to move the skunk would result in a spraying.  And once I got my head around that, I figured that although I would likely get sprayed, it was very unlikely that I would be bitten or scratched.

So here's my list of "How to Prep for an Unavoidable Skunk Encounter"

Wear old clothes that you wouldn't mind throwing away.

Cover your hair, eyes, and face.

Don't wear leather (except gloves).  Leather will thirstily drink up all the skunk musk, and will stink forever.

Wear gloves.

Get an old towel or blanket.

Approach the skunk slowly from the rear.

Slowly lower the blanket over the skunk.

Then what???  I decided to wing it.   Here's how it went.

Skunk is on the ground just slightly to the upper left of the bin.

Once I had the skunk covered, I carefully scooped him up.

I think it was right here that the spray occurred.

O.K., little guy?

Peeee-yewww!!!

I'm so excited to put this in my car....

All told, it could have been worse. 

Having read a bit about skunk-in-daylight behavior, I now think it pretty likely that he had rabies.  But I really can't think about that.  For one, sheesh, how stupid to handle a potentially rabid skunk.  But on the other hand, really, no one else was going to move that critter, and he needed to be dealt with one way or another. 

I don't feel very confident that he's going to recover, but I will call Wildlife Rescue tomorrow for an update.

Thank you Chigiy Binell for photos, advice, and moral support!

"Mom, WAIT..."

I was strolling up the driveway with my friend Chigiy, on our customary afternoon walk with the dogs, when my daughter burst out of the house at a run.

"Mom, WAIT . . . There's a big snake in my room!"  

Chigiy and I both made instant 180 degree turns and began walking back to the house.  The initial report from the front line was 1) that snake in question was not a rattlesnake - phew! - and 2) that one of the cats had brought it in for Tessa to admire (or perhaps, to inquire, "What are we supposed to do with this?"),  and 3) that it looked like a turd.  

O.K., so that ruled out gopher, garter, and king snakes. Tessa thought it might be a Sharp Tail Snake, but they don't really get "big."  They look like this:

One little Sharp-Tail snake

Two little Sharp-Tail snakes

We would have a hard time even seeing such a wee snake in Tessa's room.  Besides, I've never seen a pink poop.  Thankfully.

I wish I had thought to photograph the snake in "turd" form on Tessa's rug.  A soft brown color topside, he was neatly curled around himself, unmoving.  I feared him dead, or badly injured.  Gently, I put a towel over him to pick him up (I hate getting pooped on by frightened snakes).  I was also hoping to discourage that lightning fleeing that snakes do.  I guess if he had wanted to make a break for it, the dishtowel would not have hindered him at all.  (But it works really well for the rodents the cats bring in).  

Anyway, the snake had evidently turned to stone and let me pick him up easily .  We took him outside into the sunlight.  Chigiy already knew that it was a Racer.  They have large, expressive eyes, and tend to like moody music and stormy days at the beach.  

The Racer has a few little dings from his encounter with the cat, but does not seem to be irreparably damaged.  We are keeping him for a few days for observation, and because he is so utterly beautiful.

Top side of Racer, whom we Cannot See because he cannot see us.  (Just play along).

The colors of the underside --gorgeous.

Large expressive eyes.