Peanuts for Her Pups

I’ve heard people say there’s nothing more beautiful than a woman carrying a child.

Strangely, I rarely hear women make that statement.

Especially when they’re dealing with changing hormone structures, changes in their bone density and joints, the physical bloating, cravings and purgings that’d do a bulimic proud, swelling breasts, …

Sorry for this – It almost seems as if the men are proud of what they’ve done.

Somehow men forget what they contribute is – quite literally – the starting gunshot. They then get to sit back and watch the race from the comfort of wherever.

Wow.

Some kind of male-directed hostility on my part, huh?

I suppose it comes from my time ferrying pregnant women to safe medical facilities.

Scan the protesters and the majority are men.

Except for the women.

Who shout something about they went through this hell, now it’s your turn!

Yeah.

So, upon reflection, my hostility isn’t at men or women, really.

It’s about bringing unwanted children into the world, children who will not be cared for, nurtured, who will not be loved.

Unwanted children. Children abandoned by parents who never leave home, who abuse their children to the point where the children think of dying as an escape.

Yeah.

That really makes me mad.

But such doesn’t happen in The Wild.

There parents sacrifice for their offspring.

How come Two-Leggers forgot that?

 

He Likes Peanuts?

And now of much higher quality than I’m an object of curiosity (because my hands aren’t in the way), we see this strapping fellow in full.

I admit none of us would have known his presence were it not for the other wildlife taking to the trees and uttering epithets of such vehemence!

After all, this is the dinner hour to many of The Wild in our yard.

Which reminds me of a great standup routine by Sebastian Maniscalco about how telephone usage has changed over time.

It use to be that a ringing phone meant everybody pay attention, this could be important. Dinner? Ha! If somebody’s calling when they know we’ll be eating, you know it’s gotta be important because nobody in their right mind would destroy the sanctity of the family meal.

(and note Congress had to pass a law that phone solicitors couldn’t call during the “dinner hour”)

But now? Let it ring. They’ll call back or voicemail will get it. Who cares, we can’t be bothered.

I think the reverse is true with young people. They seem to crave something anything interrupting having to interact with their parents.

Which goes back to learning from one’s teachers, as mentioned last week…

 

I’m an object of curiosity

While recognizably of poor quality (the video, not the gentleman who is the subject of the video), the attention The Wild grants Two-Legs always intrigues me.

And not just Coyote – as is the subject of this post – but all Old Ones focus on us when we’re around.

Survival, I’m sure, to many, and I doubt that’s the case here (meaning “in our yard”) as they don’t shy away from us often.

Such is not the case when our neighbors gather.

Then it’s hustle justle hustle get back into deep cover before they do something…

foolish.

But I’ve interacted with Two-Legs enough to know respect for one’s teachers is neither a universal nor a given.

Sigh.

 

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.

 

Reasonably Cautious Raccoons

I mentioned last week the joy of dining with friends.

This week we continue that theme with a note of caution.

Behold some reasonably cautious raccoons.

Reasonably cautious because in addition to Opossum, Skunk, Owls, and assorted other fine citizens, we have a family of Coyote who visit.

We don’t mind them. They’re quite beautiful and gracious creatures.

Chatty, in fact.

And they love a good gnosh.

We simply endeavor to ensure their gnosh, while they share our space, isn’t someone else coming by for a little gnosh.

(no one likes it when the kids fight at the table…)