Came home yesterday to find Neighbor Dan and the younger Neighbor Dan Daughter out in the lanai playing with the kittens. I like that it's that kind of neighborhood.
Neighbor Dan has examined the kittens a number of times and concluded we have three girls and a boy. Or maybe four girls. Or maybe not. I say take 'em all to the vet as soon as possible so it won't make any difference.
And take Little Gray Mama, too. She killed a bird a couple of days ago (and has probably killed more but that's the only one I caught her with). I heard several avian complaints from the mango tree and recognized them as anti-cat comments from back when I lived in Connecticut and the neighbor cat would come into my back field whereupon several species of birds including crows, robins, cardinals and a Baltimore oriole would all cooperate, forming a circle around the intruder, just out of reach, moving across the field from bush to branch, always with the cat in the center until she got too frustrated and went home. It wasn't an accident; they did it several times.
Anyway, I went to investigate and found LGM under the mango with a small crow she had just killed and was now trying to eat despite being fed between two and four times a day at our house and who-knows-how-many times again over at Neighbor Dan's where she disappears for hours on end. I took it away from her and gave it a quick burial and she let me know she was not pleased that I would waste a perfectly good bird like that.
Neighbor Dan's Daughters also discovered the partial remains of a couple of lizards in the lanai the day before so the sooner we can get the kids weaned the sooner we can get her fixed as well and maybe then her reign of terror will end.
Meanwhile, Bartleby watches a palmetto bug walk between her paws with total disinterest.
Showing posts with label Crows. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Crows. Show all posts
Thursday, April 11, 2013
Tuesday, June 5, 2012
Green Parrots Return and the Crow Family Picnic
Yay! The green parrots are back!
I was reading yesterday (Paul Krugman, Conscience of a Liberal, a little outdated (2005) but, for some reason, in our library's new book section) when I caught, out of the corner of my eye, a flash of bright green by the birdbath and my brother yelled "Guess who's back?" from the other room. A pair of green parrots, that's who. They perched on the edge of the birdbath and nuzzled each other, bobbing their heads, and taking sips of water. One or the other, sometimes both, would fly off for a bit and then return. They were perfectly willing to chase the crows away from the bath. Their calls were so loud we could hear them with the windows closed. Eventually, they flew off but their nest is somewhere nearby.
This morning, with no parrots around to interfere, a crow family came by to visit the birdbath. Mom and Dad and three juveniles. The adults were black, sleek and glossy with piercing yellow eyes. The kids, slightly smaller but all fully fledged, were a dark gray. The parents showed how to use the birdbath for both drinking and bathing. The kids caught on quickly and two of them went in at the same time, splashing each other (crows do love to splash) and mock fighting until I thought all the water would be gone. Meanwhile, the adults were off in the lawn finding munchable bugs which they brought back, showed the kids how to wash, and then fed to the youngsters.
Suddenly, one of them discovered the mockingbird's nest (which must have been abandoned because no mockingbird came out to defend it) and they all swarmed it, poking around, approaching it from different angles and actually sitting in it. It seemed to fascinate them.
A fun day out for the whole family.
(Bartleby lay watching the whole thing from four feet away until she got bored and turned to face the other way.)
I was reading yesterday (Paul Krugman, Conscience of a Liberal, a little outdated (2005) but, for some reason, in our library's new book section) when I caught, out of the corner of my eye, a flash of bright green by the birdbath and my brother yelled "Guess who's back?" from the other room. A pair of green parrots, that's who. They perched on the edge of the birdbath and nuzzled each other, bobbing their heads, and taking sips of water. One or the other, sometimes both, would fly off for a bit and then return. They were perfectly willing to chase the crows away from the bath. Their calls were so loud we could hear them with the windows closed. Eventually, they flew off but their nest is somewhere nearby.
This morning, with no parrots around to interfere, a crow family came by to visit the birdbath. Mom and Dad and three juveniles. The adults were black, sleek and glossy with piercing yellow eyes. The kids, slightly smaller but all fully fledged, were a dark gray. The parents showed how to use the birdbath for both drinking and bathing. The kids caught on quickly and two of them went in at the same time, splashing each other (crows do love to splash) and mock fighting until I thought all the water would be gone. Meanwhile, the adults were off in the lawn finding munchable bugs which they brought back, showed the kids how to wash, and then fed to the youngsters.
Suddenly, one of them discovered the mockingbird's nest (which must have been abandoned because no mockingbird came out to defend it) and they all swarmed it, poking around, approaching it from different angles and actually sitting in it. It seemed to fascinate them.
A fun day out for the whole family.
(Bartleby lay watching the whole thing from four feet away until she got bored and turned to face the other way.)
Saturday, May 19, 2012
New Things
I saw something new today. Two of these birds were in the grass in front of the town library.
| Glossy Ibis |
I thought, "Huh, black ibis," but a little research showed black ibis are native to India (and have a little red splotch on the tops of their heads) so apparently these are glossy ibis which are found in this area.
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| Red-Headed Woodpecker |
And yesterday we were visited by a red-headed woodpecker that found good eats in the palm tree out back. Palms being very soft, there was none of the rat-a-tat-tat typically associated with woodpeckers just a happy full bird. It eventually moved up the tree and picked bugs out of the crevices where the leaves sprout from the bole.
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| Eurasian Collared Dove |
Also, thanks to the bird bath, we have a chance to study the various doves up close and it appears we have at least two, and maybe three, different species hanging about. I've definitely seen the Eurasian Collared Dove and the Mourning Dove. I think we also have the White Wing Dove. It's hard to tell because it gets crowded out there and we have to keep replenishing the water because the crows just love to splash everything.
 |
| Mourning Dove |
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| White Wing Dove |
Friday, May 4, 2012
Goodbye, Kitty
I was going to propose naming the cat "Bartleby" after an incident last night, notwithstanding the cat being female, and also notwithstanding that naming a cat, in the first instance, is an exercise in egotistic futility.
I have already related how the cat lies around playing dead all day, will not defend her food from thieving birds and ignores lizards scampering around her. She also couldn't be arsed to get up and out of the way of my car whenever I'd leave or come home. I had to physically push her out of the path of the tires. Then came last night.
The crow that has figured out how to get into the lanai returned. Usually, he comes in the morning, but there he was. And there was the cat. The crow freaked out when he saw the beast and panicked, fluttering about in a corner with no exit directly above the cat. The Useless Beast, that lump of calico, managed to raise her head, stare at the bird, look at me, and then telepathically say, "I would prefer not to." And didn't. The crow found the door we leave partially open for the cat's convenience and took off. The cat went back to sleep.
Thus the proposed name. Which is now moot.
The cat went home this morning. She slept most of the morning away in the lanai, but just before noon suddenly got up, went to the partially open door and began yowling. She paced along the screened in wall and yowled. There's been a beautiful young all-gray cat coming around occasionally and I thought maybe he'd returned. Finally, she went out under the mango tree, stalked over to the fence separating us from the folks in back (who I have not mentioned before because we don't really know them except for their slime green pool, passel of obnoxious dogs and, now, a single solitary chicken) where she rolled on her back as if to be petted.
Just as she did this a young couple (not sure of the relationships over there) came from behind one of their bushes. The woman saw the cat and began shouting, "Ohmygod! Ohmygod! Ohmygod!"
The young man said, "What? What is it?"
The young woman said, "That's my cat!"
I thought, Say what?
She hopped the fence. The cat hopped into her arms. She climbed back onto her own property and disappeared.
My brother took the news very well. We were at the bottom of that bag of cat kibble and the little mooch left before we bought a new one.
I have already related how the cat lies around playing dead all day, will not defend her food from thieving birds and ignores lizards scampering around her. She also couldn't be arsed to get up and out of the way of my car whenever I'd leave or come home. I had to physically push her out of the path of the tires. Then came last night.
The crow that has figured out how to get into the lanai returned. Usually, he comes in the morning, but there he was. And there was the cat. The crow freaked out when he saw the beast and panicked, fluttering about in a corner with no exit directly above the cat. The Useless Beast, that lump of calico, managed to raise her head, stare at the bird, look at me, and then telepathically say, "I would prefer not to." And didn't. The crow found the door we leave partially open for the cat's convenience and took off. The cat went back to sleep.
Thus the proposed name. Which is now moot.
The cat went home this morning. She slept most of the morning away in the lanai, but just before noon suddenly got up, went to the partially open door and began yowling. She paced along the screened in wall and yowled. There's been a beautiful young all-gray cat coming around occasionally and I thought maybe he'd returned. Finally, she went out under the mango tree, stalked over to the fence separating us from the folks in back (who I have not mentioned before because we don't really know them except for their slime green pool, passel of obnoxious dogs and, now, a single solitary chicken) where she rolled on her back as if to be petted.
Just as she did this a young couple (not sure of the relationships over there) came from behind one of their bushes. The woman saw the cat and began shouting, "Ohmygod! Ohmygod! Ohmygod!"
The young man said, "What? What is it?"
The young woman said, "That's my cat!"
I thought, Say what?
She hopped the fence. The cat hopped into her arms. She climbed back onto her own property and disappeared.
My brother took the news very well. We were at the bottom of that bag of cat kibble and the little mooch left before we bought a new one.
Wednesday, May 2, 2012
Miscellanea
A brand new amaryllis has bloomed by the front door. This one is a deep garnet or ruby red.
The mockingbirds nesting out back have had to fight off an attack of crows. Three or four of the raiders swooped in, probably to steal eggs, but, as far as I can tell, were unsuccessful.
The mango tree, covered with blossoms earlier this spring, has lost most of its fruit, partially due to the high winds we've been having for the past week and partially to birds. We may end up with only a couple dozen mangoes this year. My brother already picked two smallish unripe ones off the ground. At least we still have bags of frozen mango from last year's bumper crop.
My brother kept saying he was going to cover the blueberry bush but never did so now the birds have had all of them, too. (I think this should be filed under the last Redneck Studies post.)
We joked about the inch long $3.00 plum tomato he "harvested" last week but another one just ripened so they're down to $1.50 apiece now.
The mockingbirds nesting out back have had to fight off an attack of crows. Three or four of the raiders swooped in, probably to steal eggs, but, as far as I can tell, were unsuccessful.
The mango tree, covered with blossoms earlier this spring, has lost most of its fruit, partially due to the high winds we've been having for the past week and partially to birds. We may end up with only a couple dozen mangoes this year. My brother already picked two smallish unripe ones off the ground. At least we still have bags of frozen mango from last year's bumper crop.
My brother kept saying he was going to cover the blueberry bush but never did so now the birds have had all of them, too. (I think this should be filed under the last Redneck Studies post.)
We joked about the inch long $3.00 plum tomato he "harvested" last week but another one just ripened so they're down to $1.50 apiece now.
Thursday, April 12, 2012
Useless Beast
How hopeless is the cat?
Neighbor Dan's daughters came over because they were worried the cat had died because all it does all day long is lie there under the oak tree, unmoving, surrounded by a family of life-size gray ceramic bunny rabbits (one buck, one doe, three kits) made by Mom.
The blue jays are stealing food from the cat's dish while the cat lies there within ten feet, watching. Yet, when her dish is empty, she'll come to the front door and attempt to climb the screen to let us know she needs a refill.
The good news is, because the cat is useless, none of the other wildlife is afraid to come onto our property. There are now two dozen ibis under the mango tree obliterating the local insect population, half a dozen crows and an equal number of doves of at least two different species hanging around the bird bath, where they have reached a modus vivendi allowing both doves and crows access at the same time although the doves are not happy about it. The blue jays, being busy stealing from the cat, show up only for the occasional drink and the mockingbirds ignore everyone preferring to sing all day and most of the night.
The lizards claim the front walkway and the lanai except when this one crow, who has figured out a way to get into the lanai and is pretty pleased with himself about it, wanders in and inspects the various plants at which time they hide in the couch cushions. Every now and then we'll find a frog attached to a window or screen.
None of this would happen if our cat behaved like a cat and was not what it is, for which I am glad, which is:
Useless beast.
Neighbor Dan's daughters came over because they were worried the cat had died because all it does all day long is lie there under the oak tree, unmoving, surrounded by a family of life-size gray ceramic bunny rabbits (one buck, one doe, three kits) made by Mom.
The blue jays are stealing food from the cat's dish while the cat lies there within ten feet, watching. Yet, when her dish is empty, she'll come to the front door and attempt to climb the screen to let us know she needs a refill.
The good news is, because the cat is useless, none of the other wildlife is afraid to come onto our property. There are now two dozen ibis under the mango tree obliterating the local insect population, half a dozen crows and an equal number of doves of at least two different species hanging around the bird bath, where they have reached a modus vivendi allowing both doves and crows access at the same time although the doves are not happy about it. The blue jays, being busy stealing from the cat, show up only for the occasional drink and the mockingbirds ignore everyone preferring to sing all day and most of the night.
The lizards claim the front walkway and the lanai except when this one crow, who has figured out a way to get into the lanai and is pretty pleased with himself about it, wanders in and inspects the various plants at which time they hide in the couch cushions. Every now and then we'll find a frog attached to a window or screen.
None of this would happen if our cat behaved like a cat and was not what it is, for which I am glad, which is:
Useless beast.
Monday, February 6, 2012
Out of Town Visitors
Yesterday, my brother decided to fix a picnic lunch/dinner. And so we had barbecued ribs, baked beans, cole slaw, potato salad (for Mom and me) and macaroni salad (for himself) and sat and watched the birds at their bath.
The cat, now she is being fed regularly, is content to confine her wanderings to the front of the house between the head of the driveway, where she is fed, and the cushioned lawn chair by the front door where she naps. The birds retain the backyard unmolested. In addition to the expected murder of crows and piteousness of doves there was a small band of blue jays (not unexpected but seldom seen in quantity) and a couple of mockingbirds. The crows were quite civilized but the doves, and especially the jays, kept splashing water everywhere necessitating a half-time refill of the bath.
What excited us, however, were two singleton visitors we have not seen before: a red-wing blackbird (smaller than the crows and blending in until it took flight and revealed its stripes) and a Baltimore oriole which perched in Neighbor Mike's orange tree. We're hoping they'll stay around for a while.
Winter in Florida.
The cat, now she is being fed regularly, is content to confine her wanderings to the front of the house between the head of the driveway, where she is fed, and the cushioned lawn chair by the front door where she naps. The birds retain the backyard unmolested. In addition to the expected murder of crows and piteousness of doves there was a small band of blue jays (not unexpected but seldom seen in quantity) and a couple of mockingbirds. The crows were quite civilized but the doves, and especially the jays, kept splashing water everywhere necessitating a half-time refill of the bath.
What excited us, however, were two singleton visitors we have not seen before: a red-wing blackbird (smaller than the crows and blending in until it took flight and revealed its stripes) and a Baltimore oriole which perched in Neighbor Mike's orange tree. We're hoping they'll stay around for a while.
Winter in Florida.
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
A Word to the Wise
I've noticed recently that most of the birds that were hanging around the neighborhood seem to be gone. The mottled ducks are still up at the north end of the road by the canal and most of the burrowing owls are still there, but no ibis, vultures or parrots and hardly any doves, crows, mockingbirds, etc. I presume nesting season is over and most of them are just off somewhere but it is weird to walk around at dawn in silence.
The neighborhood falcon is still here, though. This morning he was sitting on the telephone line in a front yard at the end of my street. We stared at each other as I walked directly beneath him. As I went by a squirrel came down the driveway toward me, obviously oblivious to the raptor over his head. He was coming from behind the hawk so the bird didn't see him either. I stopped, pointed and yelled at the squirrel, "You idiot! Look up!!" He froze. I continued on a little way, then turned around. The squirrel was gone.
The falcon saw me coming back and swooped off the wire, diving down to my height before gliding up to the top of the nearest telephone pole. As soon as he did, the squirrel popped out from under some ground cover planted along the driveway and took off.
The falcon is not that big and the squirrel was probably more than he wanted to deal with, but still, it's nice to know the rodent paid attention to my warning.
The neighborhood falcon is still here, though. This morning he was sitting on the telephone line in a front yard at the end of my street. We stared at each other as I walked directly beneath him. As I went by a squirrel came down the driveway toward me, obviously oblivious to the raptor over his head. He was coming from behind the hawk so the bird didn't see him either. I stopped, pointed and yelled at the squirrel, "You idiot! Look up!!" He froze. I continued on a little way, then turned around. The squirrel was gone.
The falcon saw me coming back and swooped off the wire, diving down to my height before gliding up to the top of the nearest telephone pole. As soon as he did, the squirrel popped out from under some ground cover planted along the driveway and took off.
The falcon is not that big and the squirrel was probably more than he wanted to deal with, but still, it's nice to know the rodent paid attention to my warning.
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
Politics--and Warfare--As Usual
I wanted to write about something other than birds this time. I wanted to write about the amazingly traditional Southern politics of this little planned bedroom community where one of the city councilmen was just removed by the governor (The governor! Where else does a governor have the right to remove a local politician? This must be a legacy of Reconstruction.) because, as a contractor (every third person in town is a contractor) he allegedly cheated several clients out of their deposits and payments to the tune of a half mil or so, although he was upright enough to report it to the police when someone (a local citizen and wannabe contractor of an entirely different sort) offered to whack the plaintiffs on his behalf, and where the son of the chief of police just pled guilty to running a real estate Ponzi scheme along with a couple of friends (although as far as I can tell from the state of the housing market here, second only to Las Vegas for foreclosures, half the town must have been in on it), and where the mayor and a crony of his on the city council stand accused of running for office only so they could get their lawsuit against the city (something to do with contracting) moved along by being in position to move it along themselves (and, of course, they'd never ask the city to take a dive on that one), and where the council is trying to figure out how to bill utility costs to people who are not connected to any services and to vacant lots, and where the police just ran an undercover sting operation at a middle school fair to bust underage smokers.
That's what I wanted to write about.
But then I went out for my morning walk and witnessed a magnificent battle royal between a dozen and a half crows and three hawks. It was visible for a quarter mile and audible for three times that. The hawks hung on steady, like bombers in formation, as the crows swooped, circled and dove, claws out and beaks agape. At one point, a hawk and crow grappled (no idea who grabbed who first) and fell from the sky, a twisting ball of splayed feathers. They disappeared behind a tree before hitting the ground but when I got there I saw no evidence of a crash so I assume they broke before impact. The crows scored a tactical victory and the hawks retreated with as much dignity as they could muster. On my return the crows were settling in on the power line, their equivalent of the officers' club no doubt, where I could hear them discussing strategy, congratulating each other and loudly expounding their personal tales of derring-do which I have no doubt will only continue to expand in the retelling.
Personal note for Andrea: Python* season opened yesterday and runs through the middle of April. $26 for a license, free training is available for novices and there is no bag limit. Two extension agents caught a 15-footer and had it on the news a couple days ago.
*Includes Burmese-, Indian- and African rock pythons, green anacondas and Nile monitor lizards(!).
That's what I wanted to write about.
But then I went out for my morning walk and witnessed a magnificent battle royal between a dozen and a half crows and three hawks. It was visible for a quarter mile and audible for three times that. The hawks hung on steady, like bombers in formation, as the crows swooped, circled and dove, claws out and beaks agape. At one point, a hawk and crow grappled (no idea who grabbed who first) and fell from the sky, a twisting ball of splayed feathers. They disappeared behind a tree before hitting the ground but when I got there I saw no evidence of a crash so I assume they broke before impact. The crows scored a tactical victory and the hawks retreated with as much dignity as they could muster. On my return the crows were settling in on the power line, their equivalent of the officers' club no doubt, where I could hear them discussing strategy, congratulating each other and loudly expounding their personal tales of derring-do which I have no doubt will only continue to expand in the retelling.
Personal note for Andrea: Python* season opened yesterday and runs through the middle of April. $26 for a license, free training is available for novices and there is no bag limit. Two extension agents caught a 15-footer and had it on the news a couple days ago.
*Includes Burmese-, Indian- and African rock pythons, green anacondas and Nile monitor lizards(!).
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