Missing Panda

Yesterday was rough. 

When Bruce went into the garage to feed the kittens, only Pagan showed up for food. This is unusual, but not unheard of... Panda is the more wary of the two- Bruce assumed Panda was hiding, and though he told me, I didn’t think anything was amiss either. You see, Bruce and I had gone to Missoula the day before, and we’d left the kittens safely ensconced in the garage.  When we got home and needed to put the car in the garage, I’d done the unthinkable! I betrayed the kittens by putting them in the dog kennel while we put the garage door up (terrifying) and drove the car in (ghastly!) and then, putting the garage door down again! (OMG! Just how much can a kitten be expected to stand???) So, it wasn’t much of a stretch to think that Panda was still traumatized, and willing to make us pay for our actions. 

But then, Bruce went to work, and when I went out in the garage, Pagan was still all alone. I walked around the garage with the food dish, and called and sang, and cajoled. No Panda. I started to worry. Panda never hides from me. 

About an hour later, I brought out the big guns... tuna. Pagan was thrilled. Panda didn’t show up. I thought through it all. I KNEW both cats were in the garage when Bruce and I went to bed last night. There is no poison in the garage. There is no way out. There was nothing out of place as if the cat had jumped and had things fall on him. The kittens are just a year old, big, healthy and rambunctious, but when I stood in the garage, there was not a sound... I took a flashlight and peered into every corner, behind paint cans, on all the shelves. No Panda. 

I let Pagan outside. I thought... well- MAYBE Panda got inside the house, and somehow slipped unnoticed out the door??? It didn’t seem likely but I’d already opened the chest freezer and looked inside, and the old spare refrigerator- and inside the car, so it didn’t seem any crazier to start looking outside. I thought Pagan would lead me to his brother. But the hours ticked by, and despite frantic searching (with a tuna can in hand) inside and out, Panda was nowhere to be found. 

By this time, it was 4:30 pm. I’d accomplished NOTHING all day. I couldn’t eat or think, and I just kept looking in the same places over and over, calling and calling (There was a lot of handwringing and praying going on, too).  I brought Pagan in for the night - Put him in the garage, and gave him a bit of the tuna, and then, once again, I just stood silently in the garage, straining to hear anything. I stood there for 10 long minutes- I knew there was no way Panda was hiding for this long- over 16 hours- I knew he’d come to me if he could. I knew he was in trouble or dead. I listened- and thought I might have heard a rustling sound towards the back of the Mustang. I’d already searched under, in, and around the Mustang... but, what the heck... I went to the car, and searched again- calling, begging. And that’s when a thought struck me. 

Sunday, we’d purchased a new bed for Skye because she’d ripped up the middle of her old one. We put the old bed upside down on the back of the Mustang, until we could get it to the dump. Was that a large lump? In an already very lumpy bed? I poked it... and it sort of felt like there was something solid there. I tried lifting the bed, but it was very heavy... and there WAS something solid inside it... my first thought was.... what if there’s a rat inside? (Although I have never seen a rat in our garage)... but my second thought was- It’s Panda... and he’s suffocated. There was no sound. No movement. I started calling him again, pulling at the bed, and could see, through layers of tangled layers of cloth, the impression of a paw- pushed tightly up against the fabric...

And then, I saw a slight movement!

I ran back into the house, grabbed a pair of scissors, and glanced at the clock. 4:44 pm. 

Carefully, so as not to cut him, I managed to create a slit in several layers of the cloth, and a little head, a LIVING, breathing, kitten head poked through. It was a matter of moments, before Panda emerged, as if being born. He was alive, and purring and hungry. He enjoyed the tuna immensely.

Why didn’t he meow? Or struggle? Or let me know where he was? HOW did he get into a position where he couldn’t find his way out? Did the bed fall? Or shift? Trapping him inside? How did he manage to have enough oxygen? How many of his 9 lives did he use up? 

I am SO glad to have both my kittens back- so glad my stubbornness and persistence wouldn’t let me give up on him- so glad he’s alive, and happy. Today is a MUCH better day.

Early Summer

Even being retired over a year, EARLY Summer STILL has a unique feel to it. There’s a sense of freedom- of long, lazy days ahead, and time.... as if there IS going to be enough time- a promise and expectation. 

This year is no exception. The rain has finally stopped, and the days have warmed to perfection! 72 degrees! Not too hot- not too cold. Goldilocks weather. And Wind’s Echo is a sublime place to be.
(Yes... we named our house. It’s a tradition dating back to my childhood- worthy of it’s own blogpost at a later date).

This morning, after Bruce left for work, I sat on the back deck with my cup of coffee and my book, but I didn’t read. Instead, I sat still and felt. The soft breeze was lightly perfumed from the blossoming crabapple and lilacs. Just under the loud, burbling of our fountain I could hear the wind chimes ringing lazily, sporadically and the bustling, frantic buzz of the hummingbird’s assault on the feeder. Butterflies floated the air, and hovered around brilliantly colored flowers planted in terra cotta pots. And the color GREEN.... how can there possibly BE so many shades of green? Light and dark, vibrant and pulsing.

Without close neighbors, or busy road, its easy to succumb to the tranquility, to feel the enormity of Earth’s power- Life living without the impediments of man. I watch and experience. A doe, heavy with the impending birth of her fawn, steps out of the trees to graze with my mares. A coyote trots through the pasture en route to his den. A flash of yellow marks the Tanager’s flight from the Oak to  Maple. These are gifts I’ve earned for being quiet and watchful.

I know there are reasons people live in urban areas- good, convenient healthcare, airports, grocery stores, retail stores, and I will admit there are nights when we are tired, and complain about the 2 1/2 hr. drive home from Missoula where we buy groceries and run errands- but even those times aren’t incentive enough to leave our rural paradise. There is no where else I’d rather live.

Playing with Fire

We’ve had rain off and on for the last week, and today the temperature is hovering in the high 40’s. It’s cloudy and cool, and especially since we’re SUPPOSED to get sun and heat next week, this seemed like the perfect day for Bruce to play with fire. 

And Bruce loves playing with fire 🤣

The last few years have been difficult on our Grand Firs in NW Montana. Drought and high temperatures weakened the trees who then succumb to pests and fungus. We have lost well over 50 Grand Firs on our little 34 acres alone- some HUGE, old trees, right down to young, new saplings. Since these gorgeous trees are one of our favorites, it’s especially disheartening to see an entire stand die. 

Lately, Bruce has been cleaning up our back meadow, dragging dead trees and debris into an enormous burn pile, just waiting for a day like today. It’s hard work de-limbing a Grand Fir. They are dense, with branches too numerous to count, and NOT Bruce’s choice for firewood. (we MUCH prefer them alive) So, he has to work long and hard to remove each dead tree. The burn pile is his reward.

It’s a good day’s work- physical but enjoyable, and satisfying. This back meadow is one of my favorite places to ride Magick. It’s where the elk, mule deer, whitetails and coyotes live. It feels good to take care of the land- to be good stewards of the property. And today really was the perfect day to accomplish that.

Old Friends

About a year and a half ago, I wrote a blog post about Timber and Red, our neighbor’s two old gentlemen horses. (http://silvyr.blogspot.com/2019/02/in-world-where-you-can-be-anything-you.html) Timber grieved for Red so much, that he wasn’t eating or drinking through that brutal winter, so the owners moved him into a pasture closer to their house, and although we’ve seen him often in a far pasture, my mares have not had any contact with him. But this morning, as Bruce left for work, he called me, very excited! ‘Guess who’s back?’ He asked! ‘It’s TIMBER!’ 

I was excited to run down and feed the mares. Journey and Magick have run of the main pasture at night, but Wynter, my old Arab mare, and Timber’s best friend of the three, is locked up at night. She wouldn’t know her buddy was back. I couldn’t wait to see her reaction. 

She was excited, and danced and ran around several times, ending back at Timber’s side. It was a beautiful reunion.

How nice to rekindle an old friendship and know you’ve got a Summer full of lazy days to spend together. 

Moving day

 We have never gotten chicks so early, but the local feed store had these tiny, fluff balls up for sale in early March. We were pretty happy with ourselves, thinking that they would be of egg laying age by the middle of Summer, (versus sometime in late Sept./early Oct.) and since our old hens weren’t gifting us with many eggs lately, we were excited at the prospect of not having to hoard. What we hadn’t bargained for, was the cold, wet Spring which necessitated us keeping them in the garage, under a heat lamp for MUCH longer than we’d ever kept chicks before. 

 (Easter is on top, and Bunny is the soft, yellow chick)

 (Left to right, Monkey, Blue Blue Bert, Easter, and Bunny. Wylie helped us name them 😂)

So, they’d gotten BIG! They’d outgrown their special chick pen and took to perching on the sides of the thing, or roosting on Bruce’s Mustang. EEK!  They were SO messy, the entire garage was COVERED in dander and fine feathers. Their water container had to be filled twice a day, and they preferred eating off the floor over the chick feeder. 

This morning, Bruce and I looked at each other, and knew. Today was moving day. We had to transfer them to the barn. We had to get our garage back!

Bruce went down to the barn to hook up a heat lamp, and make sure the enclosure in the chicken coop was secure. We always keep the babies separated for a few weeks, at least, so the other hens can get used to them slowly. Meanwhile, I put our chicks in the wire cage, and walked them down to their new home. 

It was a lovely day today, sunny, warm with a blue sky, so our flock was enjoying being out of the coop. They didn’t seem very interested in the newcomers. 

 (This is Quito- our rooster)

(Quito with Henny and Penny)

(Our 4 Barred Rocks- Aggie, Bella, Henny and Penny) 

(Kate and Henny)

(Penny, Jennie, and Aggie)

With Aggie supervising, we got the chicks all snug in their enclosure. Aggie is short for Aggressive. She’s actually not that nice of a hen, and true to her nature, she immediately tried biting and pecking the chicks through the netting. 

So, it wasn’t surprising that they were a bit overwhelmed in the beginning.  Very soon, however, they realized they were safe, and settled in nicely, taking dust baths, and scratching up the dirt floor. When we put all the hens, and Quito back into the coop with the chicks, they put up quite the ruckus! Clucking, and calling- obviously gossiping with each other about the new arrivals... Quito running around, checking on his ladies and crowing loudly. The chicks huddled in a corner, and watched intently. But when I went back down a half hour ago, everyone had calmed down. I think they’ll be much happier in their roomy enclosure- and between you and me.... the barn is such a soothing, comforting place to live. Sometimes I just go down and sit on a hay bale and soak in the calm... the kittens come sit next to me, purring- the horses stand in their stalls, and munch hay- the chickens murmur and cluck softly. It’s a good place to be.