Day of the Bunny #2

When DH is still abed at 5:30 on Friday morning, I know that I can pressure him into walking to the park with the dog pack. It is a matter of stretching out achy muscles (from CrossFit the night before). Today was such a day.

And we moved slowly. We didn't get out of the house until 6:00. But this time he had his coffee and I had a cane (and a camera). It is light by 6, so we did not need as many flashing lights to help the distracted drivers see us.

About half-way to the park we slowed at the house of the woman with the lovely flowers. Her house was all lights, but the newspaper was still in the yard. I commented that "This does not seem right" when I saw our neighbor through the breezeway - just standing in the back. Relieved, we walked on.

But then I heard her voice. She commented on how she had not seen us walking in some time and had wondered about us. I confessed our laziness. And we confirmed our neighborhood connections. With all the coming and going, birth and death, it is nice, a comfort, to have some sameness.

Arriving at the park I further coerced DH into a walk down the dirt road. We have avoided it in the past weeks as we knew the rain had turned it into a hazard, a mud-wallow waiting to happen. And while I love playing in the mud, I don't relish a face-plant caused by dogs pulling and the loss of solid footing. And DH has no sense of humor about some things...

There was a little mud today, but we were able to make it with no trouble down most of the track. The dogs caught scents in the grass and on the air, but we saw no creatures save an occasional bird moving in the trees or a butterfly fluttering among the wildflowers and a perhaps imagined deer snort.

And the wildflowers! The coneflowers were a riot of color - yellow, orange, burgundy and brown. Here and there a purple verbena or white wild carrot bloom peeked through. And I did see a single horsemint blooming as well as a silver-leaved nightshade. It is as if everything happened overnight.

Once home I released the pups for breakfast. Scruffy, freed first, flew across the yard in pursuit of - yes, it was the bunny. Scruffy was fast, but the bunny faster. It scooted under the fence and into the front yard.  Poor Scruffy could not follow.

DH is convinced the rabbit is stealing dog food while we are walking. Silly rabbit.

Photos will follow.

Bugs....

It was just daybreak when we fell out of the house for our morning walk in the humid, humid air. [At the end of the week we have a hard time getting these creaky old bones out of bed and out of the house for a walk.]

I left the house without a cane (protection, not balance - yet). DH forgot his coffee. And as the hounds and I  started across the yard, something streaked past. [Now, dogs apparently don't see all that well. They are attracted by the movement. People see better and are often frightened by the movement.]

Suddenly I was being dragged across the lawn by very excited pups.

My mind in about 2 seconds: "What is that? Raccoon? No, it's a cat. No, it isn't big enough to be a cat. What? There's a flash of white. It's a cottontail!"

Managing to get Paddy and Scruffy under control, I pulled them back towards the driveway to distract them and restart this walk.

DH had missed all the excitement (he was filling dog bowls as the rabbit ran). I related the story to him and, as we were about to head east to the park, delayed long enough to point out the very still rabbit sitting in the corner of the yard. DH reported that he had seen the rabbit on other mornings, but that it was in the dog yard (the dog-run that the dogs don't use, except to tunnel out of confinement).

Silly dogs confirmed what I had read about vision and movement. Prey that stands still can escape. DH and I observed and did not disclose the presence of a rabbit sitting mostly still, only a shiver or tremble to give him away.

The rest of the walk was uneventful. We stopped where we usually stop. We saw no friends as we traveled to and from the park. We had that memory and the dying rush of a wild and short chase...

But, as I left the house for work, I glanced into the side yard. Our cottontail friend had returned to the more traveled part of the yard. He was sitting quietly under the wheelbarrow, watching me, and preparing to run if I got too close.

So, here's the proof:

One bunny by the wheelbarrow. Don't you see him?

See him now?

A better view.

Lightning strikes three times

It was raining at 5....still raining at 6...but then stopped by 6:15 and we rushed outside to walk before the next wave of rain.

Padimus, sporting her tail bandage (We are not sure what is going on. A visit to the vet is in the offing.), Scrufimus and I hit the street before DH. We wanted to take the shortest walk necessary.

We found ourselves in a hard sprinkle. And the lightning started in the southeast. Then the thunder started and, when the third lightning bolt streaked across the sky (the first two were nothing), we booked it home as fast as our little feet could go.

20% chance of rain? Sure...thunderstorms, but no ice cream

After a long day sweating on some projects in the summer heat (no air conditioning where I was working), I finally gave up and headed home for a shower. I could see dark clouds towards home. By the time I arrived it had started storming.  I am leery of showering in a thunder storm.

But at the break between storms we needed to get the dogs out for a walk. So I sit here dirty and wet and doggy...but I am jumping ahead....

DH, Paddy, Scruffy and I headed down the street towards the park. We were running between raindrops initially. It continued to clear long enough for us to get to the park and decide to stop for ice cream. Cutting through the field we arrived as they were cleaning up for closing...the vanilla machine was off and dogs cannot eat chocolate. Bummer.
So we all headed home and the clouds opened up.   

DH moved quickly towards home. Our plan was for dogs and Walker to take shelter on a friend's porch while DH brought the car back.

So much for plans. We reached the porch and the rain decreased a bit. We continued on. DH was a few blocks ahead and a dog came tearing out of its yard across the street. He "woof, woofed" and I screamed for DH.

DH spun around and yelled at the dog. I pulled my pepper spray.

Confrontation was averted as defensive pooch's owner retrieved him from the yard.

Distracted, delayed, and drenched we entered our yard and house. We toweled dogs dry. Scruff retired to his kennel. [We will never know why he loves it, but he loves his kennel as much as Paddy hates hers.]

Paddy came into the living room and snoozed in front of the TV with me for a while. She did give me a few looks as if to say, "Where is the animal channel? I cannot believe you watch such junk!" Still she calmly handled the thunder - I suspect because she was snuggled up next to me.

Now pups are bedded down for the night. I am still dirty and wet and smell of dog. Time for a shower - the storms are over.

All in all it was a good and productive day. I suppose the only way it could have been better would have been if there had been ice cream...maybe tomorrow.


Note:

All the rain has greened up the woods. The ditches flow with runoff. It is wonderful to get the rain, but the yard is starting to look a little wild too. More rain is expected tomorrow. Maybe Sunday will be clear. There is mowing and trimming, planting and organizing ahead.

Ride to the sound of the battle

After my hour long walk a-square the yard (mowing. I mow in squares, not circles), DH and I started running a few errands. At one point I started to hear gunfire. Then cannons.

I looked at DH and he told me he had been hearing those noises for a while.

We discovered there was an encampment of civil war reenactors by the river, about 5 miles away.

I was reminded of an old story about my great great grandfather, John Carroll Flinn. He was a doctor living near Bolivar, Hardeman County, Tennessee during the war between the states (and before moving to Williamson County, Texas). He lived some 40 miles from Shiloh.

Around the time of the battle of Shiloh there were many skirmishes in the general area. At one point, Dr. Flinn could hear the sounds of  a battle. He packed his saddlebags and rode to the sound of the guns.

I have heard that the Yankees would not allow civilian doctors on the battlefields, but the Confederates would. Great great grandpa found the battlefield, arriving after the shooting had ceased. He treated the wounded and dying, blue and grey alike.

Distant cousins report he picked up a cannonball that day (and it is floating around somewhere in the family).

I am always in awe of those who ride or march or run to the fight, not away from it. I am not sure I would be one, but I am glad to know those people do still exist.

Monday morning coming down...

Yeah, the song was "Sunday morning coming down" but there were surely two tired and worn out bodies on our Monday morning walk. I spent hours cleaning and then working on a project (tossing around about 50+ lbs of earth), while DH ran a half marathon on Sunday.

Hence, tired muscles and creaky joints accompanied us to the park early Monday morning.

The sky was just starting to brighten and the sliver of moon hung low in the sky.

Paddy and Scruffy moved back and forth seeking dominance and position on the sidewalk and, in doing so, twisted the leashes into a pink and red candy cane length. It reminded me why we use the double lead - they can jockey for position without winding themselves up and frustrating the walker (after all, someone has to untangle that mess).

We saw our friend running man as we headed home. And the morning birds sang.

Moon hanging in the sky (note DH walking with pups just below the lights)

All twisted up

Moon over the park pecan trees and the sun just starting to light up the sky

Heartbroken - walking with friends

Molly

A dear artist friend lost her beloved dog, Molly, this week.

The weather here has been warm and cold, warm and cold, warm and cold. Spring has started and stopped multiple times. And the snakes are out.  Molly found a rattlesnake while on a walk this week.

Perhaps it was the location of the snake bite or Molly's small size, but she was not able to fight the poison (despite immediate and excellent veterinary care).

My friend grieves and I can do nothing.

And I am reminded to love my walking companions and appreciate my time with them.

And I am reminded that this is the time of year we must be wary.

Watch for snakes.