Black Bear Signals End of Bird Feeding Season
When we came home from vacation on Sunday, to our delight, spring had fully sprung. Missing crocus season entirely, we stepped off the plane straight into full blooming daffodils. Willows leafed out in tender green waves. Red maples reached out their tiny leaves in search of the sun’s warmth. And our resident bear came out of hibernation before we emptied the last inch of winter bird seed from the storage can.
We had a heads up from the house sitter, mind you, and we would have emptied the last of the seed upon coming home had I not been plagued with a medical distraction. Having gained 12 pounds worth of edema in my legs, I was busy limping through 7 doctors’ consults, from ruling out blood clots to detecting what is likely a strange side effect of taking Celebrex. (Thank goodness it wasn’t the salt in the Margaritas! That, I couldn’t live with.)
Exhausted from it all, Tim and I hit the pillow early and hard by Wednesday. We craved a solid night’s sleep, but it was not to come.
Portrait of a Passing Porcupine
Our story left off with Jeannette, the wildlife rehabilitator, whisking our suddenly struggling porcupine down the hill for emergency veterinary care. Once in the compassionate care of Joyce, a vet technician in Guilderland, the ticks (a sign of a compromised immune system) were carefully removed from our girl’s face. She also received fluids, antibiotics and pain medication. With no concrete determinations that night, Jeanette wrote, “Joyce and I will do absolutely anything for her if the vet feels she has any chance of recovery.”
Porcupine Situation Gets Sticky
We now enter a less pleasant chapter in the revelry of my budding porcupine friendship, as chronicled in An Unlikely Encounter with a Porcupine, Return of the Porcupine, an Apple Fest and Porcupine, Fawns and Turkeys – A Winter Woodland Celebration.
MOVING IN
After my woodland birthday celebration on that snowy Thursday in October, our resident porcupine made herself scarce. Then, as Tim woke to let the dogs out on Saturday, he saw her nestled against the chain link fence with her quills pointed through into the dog yard. With the dogs crossing their legs in need of morning relief, an hour ticked slowly by before the porcupine finally wandered off again.
That night, the dogs nearly climbed the 6 foot fence, frothy white saliva flying this way and that, as they barked themselves into a frenzy. In the glow of the house floodlights, we saw our little porcupine curled up in a half-igloo just 3 feet from the fenced yard. As Tim and I dragged the dogs inside, the Newf nearly went through the sun room window in pursuit, leaving swipes of muddy footprints smeared across the glass. It took great effort, but we wrangled both dogs into the main house and slammed the door shut.
Porcupine, Fawns and Turkeys – A Winter Woodland Celebration
In late October, I woke to a landscape glittering and bright in the golden sun of daybreak. It was the first snow of the season, and this particular day was my birthday. Through the window, from the warmth of my bed, I watched a rabbit making tracks as our Newf, Shamus, ate frosted crabapples straight from the tree. The view made me cheerful for the first time in a long while.
Return of the Porcupine, an Apple Fest
Last week, as I told of My Unlikely Encounter with a Porcupine, we left off with this darling, quilly little girl trotting through the deep woods as I skipped home filled with wonderment at our chance meeting. But that’s not the end of the story…
On an overcast Saturday afternoon, a dark, waddling shadow under the apple trees caught my husband Tim’s eye. “Hey. Your friend is back!”
I ran to the window. There she was, face-first in a shiny, red, fallen apple on the lawn, circling around it as she ate, not a care in the world. Unable to hold onto the fruit, she sank her long teeth into the ruby red flesh, re-angling for every bite. When only a bright white core was left, she abandoned it for the next apple. Continue reading
An Unlikely Encounter with a Porcupine
It was October 18th, 2011. The sun played peek-a-boo, ducking behind passing clouds and cheekily popping out again like a gleeful child. Bulbous shadows floated across the lawn in tandem with their fluffy white counterparts above. I absorbed the sights as if they were harmonious sounds, the clouds providing a strong bass line as melodious bursts of golden light trickled through the pines.
Then she arrived, hopping and bopping through this symphonic space like a tuba in the strings section. From a distance, she looked like a ground hog, or perhaps a beaver. But, no. She was a beautiful little porcupine.
Climbing the hill toward the house, she took a turn past the dog yard – which sent the dogs into an ear piercing cacophony. When she redirected, I grabbed my camera and followed with a wide birth letting the zoom bridge the gap.
Black Bear! What Do We Do?!
The house rattled and creaked as the wind pushed and pulled, searching for a way in beyond the logs. Crisp brown leaves whizzed past the windows, illuminated only by the lamplight inside. The feeder swayed back and forth from it’s hook, metal grinding on metal. The cedar trellis whipped from side to side. From under my my chocolate knit afghan, as I sat with the dogs basking in the warmth of the fire, I lazily thought, I need to tighten those trellis screws.
In the flurry of all that commotion, something caught Jed’s attention. The curious cat ascended the couch, planted his face in the window and stared into the darkness. Then he started to pace.
Squirrel? I thought. We hear them trotting across the roof some nights. They use the trellis to reach the closest feeder with solid footing. I welcomed the thought.
Postal System Carries New Message: Stamp Out Wildlife Loss!
The U.S. Postal Service was flooded with letters, calls and emails all containing a single message: Let’s stamp out wildlife loss! Not only was that message delivered loud and clear, the U.S. Postal Service response was filled with pride as they answered the call.
You can now support wildlife conservation by purchasing the Save Vanishing Species semi-postal stamp at your local post office and online. According to the Wildlife Conservation Society:
The First Class stamp, which features a tiger cub illustration, costs 55 cents. Net proceeds – a total of 11 cents from the sale of each stamp – will go to tiger, rhino, great ape, marine turtle, and elephant conservation projects, including several led by WCS. These projects are supported by the Multinational Species Conservation Funds, which is administered by the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service.
Send a little gift to wildlife. A sheet of 20 Save Vanishing Species stamps costs just $11. To learn more about this stamp and how it supports wildlife, or to purchase a sheet, visit the postal store!
Happy Feet Penguin: Go High [Tech] and Go Home!
JOURNEY OF THE BODY AND OF THE MIND
Traveling to a foreign land is often an exciting adventure. When I volunteered in Ghana (summer ’08), I was constantly stimulated by new experiences. At the same time, I quickly discovered that my mind equated each new sight, smell and sound with things already familiar to me. Clearly, this reaction is not unique. When Gunadiish, my Ghanaian guide, took his first journey to the US (winter ’09), his reaction as his big, black, borrowed glove sifted through the crisp, white, drifting snow was, “Snow looks like sand!” It seems this type of association happens with animals too.
Injured Bird Care Guide from Badger Run
Window Alert on Amazon.com (affiliate link)
Bird strikes were fairly common at our house until I found these pretty, little WindowAlerts on Amazon (affiliate link) that debunk the illusions of continuous skies and limbs with reflective UV reflective decals. Still, there are times when a decal won’t cut it.
My husband Tim will never forget the red-tail hawk who, in pursuit of a small bird, crashed head-first into our sunroom door, fell to the ground with the bird still in its talons, flew off to recover – hopefully. The feather dust left a perfect outline on our window for weeks. Another, not-so-lucky hawk, flew into our kitchen window under the same circumstances and broke his neck, sadly alive and struggling until it expired.
This site is powered by 100% renewable energy. Yours could be too.
Host with FatCow!
We're affiliates because we're fans.
