Wild Times in the Woods, Two-Leggers
Wild Times in the Woods, Two-Leggers
Vasch sends Greetings. Maybe. It’s tough to tell with gray fox.
I’ve written about our resident wildlife. Recently we were visited by Vasch, a mature male gray fox.
We’ve had several gray fox visit over the past few weeks, Vasch is the first to share his name with us. I’ll admit to being a little confused at first; translating from Hrycuna, the major gray fox dialect, to Human and then to English proved more of a challenge than I thought (I haven’t spoken Hrycuna regularly in several years, my bad, that).
In any case, it took me a few turns to make out his name when he shared it: “Vaschti? Vayetzch? Fhasaietch?”
Fortunately, Vasch was patient with me. Probably figured talking with me was the price of being in our backyard.
We suspect there may be females and if so, kits. We’ll let you know.
Somebody’s following those fine looking ladies
Well, things were obviously pretty good at Chez Carrabis because the other day we woke up to see Bill out there with the girls.
I didn’t know we had any mature Toms although I shouldn’t have been surprised; any Tom would be drawn to the vicinity of two such attractive ladies.
I went out to greet him. When I asked his name, I thought he said “Roger” (probably some errant chipmunk not getting enough seed).
“I bet your pardon?” I said.
“My name’s Bill.”
Being polite, I said, “Hello, William.”
He quickly corrected me, “It’s Bill, just Bill,” and he held out a wing. He had a good, firm wingshake. Obviously a bird of business, a serious bird, one to be dealt with squarely, probably good with a bread&bourbon stuffing.
Bill harrumphed at that and joined the ladies.
Some fine lookin’ ladies, these.
I wrote about Agnes, our resident wild turkey, a few posts back. The past few days Agnes has brought along her friend, Francesca.
Agnes, on her own, is quite cordial and talkative with us. She waddles up to the porch windows, stares in, warbles to get our attention then walks back to her spot (where we put seed out for her and her alone. She does dine with Francesca. We suspect they have a history) and scratches the earth to let us know she’s out of seed.
Demanding little hen, yes?
Also quite protective. A while back a chipmunk went after her seed. When such occurs she performs what we call “The Chippie War Dance” and sometimes “The Fluff and Run”.
I prefer Chippie War Dance myself (and please excuse the blurry image. Wildlife photographer I am not).
We expect Francesca will be more directly communicative shortly. Especially as she realizes Agnes can ask for and get seed from us with little more than a warble, wink, cluck and scratch.
But as I wrote in Nothing Ever Dies of Old Age in The Wild, one will discover things in The Wild that one wishes one hadn’t.
Case in point, about a week back I noticed that Bess wasn’t joining her mother and siblings when I put out peanuts, dog food and cookies. I saw her in back, under cover, in the dark.
I called to her and she didn’t move. I talked to her and walked towards her, a cookie in my open hand so she could see it, and tossed it in front of her. She barely came forward and wasn’t able to hold the cookie in her paws. She couldn’t get it to her mouth and I knew then that something had happened, that she was injured and probably wouldn’t last.
The past four nights Heckie, Sheldon, Veronica and Porgy have joined us in the backyard, but no Bess.
And yes, I mourn.
But nothing ever dies of old age in The Wild.
It’s the way that she move, the things that she do
I mentioned in WildLife – Heckie, Sheldon, Veronica, Porgy and Bess that we have lots of wildlife in our yard. We encourage it. People who knew me in my NextStage days will remember my frequent posts about one such creature, Agnes the Turkey.
Well, she’s back!
She came back in Spring with her flock and we hadn’t seen her since. We thought she’s moved on/passed over (Nothing Ever Dies of Old Age in The Wild).
And then this morning, as I was sipping some coffee…
Heckie, Sheldon, Veronica, Porgy and Bess still come by nightly, as do Larry and Phil (two adult male raccoons, brothers, we think, and no pictures yet) and Ponchie (an opossum pup, this year’s litter by his size and also no pix yet).
I’ll share more as time allows.
And the Agster, the Aginator, Agnes who keeps our hearts warm and true, is back.