Wordless Wednesday #22
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One Squirrely Friendship
Yesterday’s post about my fondness for chipmunks jogged the memory of Shauna Stewart from the Fido & Wino blog. In response, she shared an adorable story about her childhood experience:
Hmmm. I am not sure if my little memory is about squirrels or chipmunks, but the big ”win” when we went camping when we were kids was getting a squirrel (chipmunk?) to trust us enough to take a cracker off our of knee. We NEVER succeeded. The only way we knew it was possible was because my grandpa pulled it off every year.
It didn’t dawn on us that perhaps the reason he managed it and we didn’t was because his game plan did not involve a “HEY SQUIRREL! Come HEEEEEERE LITTLE SQUIRREL!”
Surprisingly, Grandpa’s approach was a bit more calm, a bit more methodical.
April from The Teacher’s Pets also had a story to share:
When I was a little girl I used to feed peanuts to chipmunks while staying at a cabin in Sunapee, NH, and it was the cutest thing to see those little critters come right up to me for a bite of a peanut.
After having a good laugh, my memory was jogged too (although I seem to have blocked out the bad hair that goes with it)…
Adventures of Shamus, The Napping Newf
Shamus, our adopted Newfoundland, turned 3 this year and we missed it. We totally missed it. We could blame our long history with rescue dogs who, with unknown backgrounds, give little cause for birthday celebration. Truth be told, I blame the Newf. He simply slept through it.
Shamus has much to learn in the ways and means of hint-dropping. I, for instance, strategically place ads for lawn furniture on the dinner table or say out loud, in April, that I’d like a bird bath for my birthday… in October. It seems Shamus slept through these invaluable lessons, missing the chance to tell us how best to celebrate. Or did he? Based on the various day to day nappings he’s scattered throughout the house, I suspect the only thing he wanted for his birthday was that very thing – a long, comfortable, uninterrupted nap.
Kringle: A Cat to Flip Over
While some cats are all about the nip, and Kringle loved his catnip like the best of ’em, this cat was all about the flip.
Unearthing what amounts to “vintage video” in cat years, I share with you this special moment from May ’06 when we first discovered our cat’s untapped love of acrobatics. Often spinning in circles on his own, we found a new way to entertain our little beasty on this particular day. See for yourself.
From this moment on, Kringle spent each morning kneading the pile of the dining room rug to garner his papa’s attention. Tim would meet him there, on what we called “the mat,” to wrestle with, roll and flip the kitty. Evolving from a hillside rolling flip, their new combination involved Tim holding Kringle upside down at waist level, then sliding Kringle down the length of his legs until Kringle met the floor with his front paws. Kringle loved this and, purring, would circle Tim’s ankles until he was lifted once more to do it again. This became a daily ritual, one you can view in the previously posted “Kringle the Christmas Cat” video.
Accentuating your pet’s interests can be rewarding and fun. Let them show you what they find entertaining and build on that. Just remember to never violate their trust by pushing your pet beyond their comfort level. The activity has to be enjoyable for both of you.
Ashes, Ashes, We All Fall Down
Kringle found me when he was just 3 months old. He came in one frigid night in December 1984 while I brought in an armload of wood. He laid in front of the Christmas Tree undetected for some time only to be discovered like a present from Santa. Too cold and dark to find his home that night, we curled into the chair by the fire and napped on and off. The next day, I canvassed several blocks for his owner but to no avail. Al, my closest neighbor, said the little guy had been living under his porch for a week but he had no idea where the kitten had come from.
Apple-Picking Dogs
Fall. ‘Tis the season for woolly sweaters, falling leaves, butternut squash, pumpkins … and gobs of apples.
This last detail is a treasured favorite among our dogs. As each sweet, succulent bauble dangles and then, at the peak of ripeness, drops from a branch, Shamus (our Newfoundland rescue) and Emmett (our mischievous, mixed-breed foster) come charging forth. “Gifts from the Great Treat God!” they must be thinking.
And why should humans be the only beings to savor the perfect apple as we devour a steaming, fresh-baked pie with heaps of vanilla ice cream on top? That thought has never crossed the minds of our pooches. They have shamelessly devoured mass numbers of apple treats during this year’s harvest (as evidenced by a recent increase in gastro-intestinal rumblings) with nary a care for moderation or just who those apples belong to. For that, I applaud them.
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