Category: WildLife

Turkeys and a Cautious Squirrel

From early March 2022, the return of the Turkeys…with a vengeance.

We counted twenty-two lords and ladies when the counting was done.

They return (as they do most Springs) to see if we’ve upped our seed supplies, say hello, chat a bit, poop hither and yon (and navigating a yard of turkey poop is a challenge, I can tell you!), and catchup on all the Winter’s gossip.

Early in the season they are wary of us. Some remember and pay us no mind, some remember and come over to learn how we’ve fared since last they visited.

We, of course, offer them special seeds.

Others in the flock notice and we hear them whispering to their winged others, “What’s this? They give the good seed to their favorites?”

And the others reply, “Say nothing. Act casual. Walk up as if they’re unimportant. Get close enough and they’ll offer you some. It’s a game they play. Silly Two-Legs, you know.”

Nods all around. Yes, we are silly Two-Legs.

It’s good to know one’s place in the scheme of things, isn’t it?

 

The Old Ones Return

From early Feb 2022, The Old Ones return, and like most of us waking from a long slumber, they’re unsure. Shy, really.

It’s obvious they recognize me and know I’m not a threat.

Perhaps their concern is that they haven’t had a chance to put their makeup on, or do their hair.

You know, that “Come back after I’ve had my coffee” look? You’re still in your PJs, still have sleep in your eyes, don’t yet want to talk, might be coherent enough to listen to NPR but can’t actually find the radio yet although you might be clutching your mobile because you never really let go of it during the night.

Kind of makes you wish you were in The Wild, doesn’t it?

No need for mobiles there. Grunt or a groan’s as good as a snarl or a bark with them.

 

No Breakdancing for Samuel

At least we think it’s Samuel.

Could be Elmer, but probably Samuel.

In any case, a healthy fellow with the exception of a bad hip.

We’ve noticed the bad hip before, not sure where he got it.

No obvious bullet wounds, nor any obvious scars from encountering inhospitable others in The Wild.

Such would be a rare occurrence, though. Especially around us as we tend towards being generous.

Could be a simple mishap, a misstep. Could be he was practicing a dance step and some Latin rhythm threw him.

No breakdancing for Samuel for a while, I guess.

 

Oaps loves Grannies

Granny Smith apples.

Although we’re sure all o’possums love their grannies (apples and otherwise).

Granpies, too (are there such things as Granpy Smith apples?).

Not sure how many generations of a family line can comfortably co-exist. We haven’t noticed any o’possums being territorial. We’ve seen them sit side by side and dine.

Usually a male and female, though.

But not a female with pups.

Pupped females…don’t like to be bothered.

None of that “Want to see my darling children?” for them.

Oh, no, no, no.

Pupped womens – at least o’possum womens – are (like all in The Wild) protective mothers.

Probably protective grannies, too.

No idea about the granpies, though.