Animal behavior continues to fascinate me. It took nearly a month, after losing Big Red, for our two bays to venture any considerable distance from the front field and away from the barn. My mare, Schatz, would have liked to mosey further out, but she wouldn’t leave the gelding, Myles, who appeared to be pining, still, for his buddy. What I would have thought to be a week’s worth of shifting dynamics between the two, it turned out to be several weeks of the gelding looking, constantly looking to the south. A few hundred empty, private acres lie to the south, acres on which Big Red never ventured. Apparently, Myles thought he did. The moment I knew that Schatz and Myles regained their happy horsey existence was when both galloped to the back field, and Schatz joyously threw in a small buck before passing over a terrace. It was the exact location where Big Red always exhibited his sheer joie de vie. In moving on, she gave a salute to their buddy. No one will budge me on this one. 🙂
My poor, aged feline. Daisy’s time clock is off kilter. She begins her wailing at 3:30 am, but we manage to ignore her pleas until 4 am. My disgruntled mood changes when I look at her near toothless expression. Half of her mouth is tucked under as she gazes upward inquisitively, well, do I get my breakfastthen? Her arthritic joints subdue the bounce in her step, while we walk down the basement stairs. One and a half tablets of thyroid meds are crushed and mixed in the chicken with gravy. Her slurping is strangely comforting. I do love this old girl, and she loves me.
We enjoyed a Sunday brunch at our favorite IHop. Restaurant prepared eggs, French toast, sausage, and pancakes are some of our favorite comfort foods. I had read somewhere that maple syrup, if used properly (however else?!), adds calcium and other nutrients to the diet. All this, with strong coffee, sugar, and cream, is an opiate. We stopped on our way home and bought a 40 lb. bag of Science Diet and dental biscuits for our senior dog. Snow flurries began, and neither of us were wearing warm jackets. (It was sunny and mild when we set out for town.) Back at the house and chilled, we wrapped ourselves in afghans and watched Marley and Me on the telly. Both of us cried when old Marley was euthanized, and I said to my husband, we’ve been there before, and he replied, too many times. As always, we anticipate the changing of the season; the afternoon chill won’t last.
I didn’t do it. I tell ya. If animals could talk, this is what the relinquished cats and dogs would be saying, as they’re brought into the holding cell. Today I could see the confusion in their eyes, hear questioning mews, and even one dog boldly proclaimed to the others, I’m breaking out of here as soon as my owner returns. The three hours of my volunteer time were spent dealing with a barrage of human emotions, exasperation, anger, grief, and sheer apathy. All these people of various temperaments had one thing in common: they no longer wanted the responsibility of caring for their pets. Even though this is perturbing to all of us animal lovers, I must keep reminding myself that these people are doing the right thing by taking their unwanted pets to a safe haven. What balanced today’s turmoil were the owners who claimed their found pets and didn’t whine over the bailout fee. Amongst all the hullabaloo, there was one unnamed red cat dropped off by an impatient man. It was a delight to discover that he [the cat, not the man] has a microchip. We found his ID in the system, and there it said, Where’s Waldo? Perhaps Waldo has a propensity for executing disappearing acts?