Suburban Zooarcheology

I came home yesterday evening to find my brother had lopped off more than a dozen fronds from the pineapple palm out front. It is now possible for a full-size adult human to walk around the tree without ducking. (He did a similar chop job with the orange tree by the driveway last week that went even further. I'm not sure whether he got carried away with the pruning or he was cutting it down and just stopped part way through. See: Redneck Studies: The 70% Complete Solution.)

There's a good view of those nasty spikes

I discovered two things as I gathered up the fronds and placed them by the side of the road for trash pick up.*

First: Pineapple palm fronds have long, thin, spiky and incredibly sharp stiletto-like leaves at their base which are quite capable of stabbing one in the hand, thigh, calf or anywhere else that gets too close and they will draw blood.

Second (and less painful but much more interesting): A 'possum up and died under the pineapple palm. I found parts of its disarticulated skeleton pressed into the ground. I have the skull, both halves of the mandible, both femurs, and several vertabrae (probably lumbar, but I can't be sure without others to compare them with). No ribs, no tail bones, no other leg or foot bones although I may just have missed them since they would be very small and it was getting dark.

The bones I do have are in perfect condition. No breakage, no scratches, no teeth missing. And clean. The animal must have died a while ago because there was no soft matter anywhere. (There was the very faintest odor which was sufficient to intrigue Paribanour when I went inside and presented my hands to her but it was faint enough that the other cats were totally uninterested.) skullsunlimited.com is asking $50 for just a skull (of course) and mine is every bit as good and I have the other bits, too.

These are from washington.edu and not mine, but mine look just like this

They're all laid out right now on a fertilizer bag by the front door until I can find a proper way to display them. Some sort of shadow box or something. In the meantime, I'll go back out under the tree and see if I can find any more pieces.

UPDATE: I went back out last evening while it was still light and found the pelvis, more long bones (not sure which), some more vertabrae including tail bones, and several ribs. Still haven't seen any of the very small foot bones.

* We get three trucks coming through on trash day. One automated truck for recyclables in their designated container, another automated truck for non-recyclables in their separate container, and one truck with humans attached picking up "yard waste," basically anything plantish larger than lawn clippings that used to be growing on the property.

Critterman Redux

My brother claimed something was scuttling around in his wall again over the weekend, the same spot the 'possum was pulled out of recently.

I didn't hear it and the cats were not acting any more weirdly than usual (it was Jasmine's turn to sneak outside when no one was looking and when we did the headcount and realized she was AWOL my brother let her back in but she'd picked up some strange smell or something only the kids could notice and she hissed and snarled at them whenever they got close to the point where they were ready to forgo dinner rather than share the plate with her) although as just noted they were not acting any less weirdly than usual either. My brother scheduled the Critterman to come back today.

He was up in the attic for a half hour or so banging around and pulled at least one juvenile opossum from the same wall space the first one had occupied. He and my brother are now touring around the outside of the house identifying all the possible entry points after which Critterman will block them up as cheaply as possible.

I suspect this is merely a skirmish. The war may last all winter.

A Visit From the Critterman

Last night the cats started acting weirder than usual. At first they were just tearing around the house with too much energy, racing each other (mom included) across the living room, sliding on the coffee table, over the couch, onto the recliner by way of the TV tray, into the kitchen and onto the window sill (or all the way up to the curtain rods). And then back again.

Suddenly, it became very still and quiet. When I looked around from where I was doing dishes I saw the kids trying to climb the front of the bookcase and mama all the way up on top, over six feet up where she had never gone before, and threatening one of Mom's ceramics. She backed as far away from the edge as she could and, although I could just reach her, I couldn't get the leverage to haul her down. There was a dull, rhythmic thumping behind her which I assumed was her tail against the wall.

I called my brother, who is taller, to help and when he came out of his room, which shares that wall, he took one look at Jasmine and said, "So that's what all the noise is about." He was wrong.

After we hauled the cat down, the noise continued. Jasmine, incensed at being forcibly removed from her discovery leapt from a side table to a small but slightly taller curio stand (knocking over a vaguely disturbing articulated painted wooden wizard/clown "doll" of unknown provenance) to the top of the old TV onto the bookcase, thus explaining how she got there the first time. Something was in the wall and she had dibs.

My brother, after yelling at all the cats sufficiently to keep them off the bookcase, spent the night listening to whatever it was skittering around.

First thing this morning he called an animal removal guy who came out, crawled into our attic and removed a smallish 'possum that had fallen inside the wall and couldn't climb out on its own. He also found and blocked up the hole that had allowed the 'possum to get into the attic in the first place although he warned that his fix will not prevent raccoons from gaining entry if they want because they have those nimble, tricksy fingers and can literally pull the patch apart.

The 'possum is now on its way to the local (semi-)wilderness where it will be set free to live happily away from people and near to the pythons and panthers and black bears and alligators and tegus and whatever else is hiding out there.

Good luck, little fella!

De Gustibus Non Est

How is it a cat that doesn't like hot dogs, shows no interest in chicken or sausage and won't drink a saucer of milk loves marinara sauce?

Bartleby found a plate my brother left in an accessible location with remnants of his pasta dinner on it. She licked up most, but not all, of the sauce and then proceeded to sit on the plate after which she became offended when I would not let her park her tomatoey butt in my lap. She spent the rest of the evening pointedly sitting with her back to me.

Meanwhile, we've had to be careful about the amount and timing of the food we put out for the little gray cat. With the recent spell of cold weather (for here, mildly cool by most other definitions) a wandering oppossum has once again discovered the lanai. I still have my official 'possum stick from last winter and have chased it away twice but leaving food out at night is just too much temptation to expect any critter to resist. So the little guy now eats during daylight hours only.

The Wild Life

The mockingbird couple that built their nest in the backyard have been going berserk all day. Despite having cleverly positioned their home in such a way as to be pretty much blocked from sight by adjacent branches, we can see movement in the nest even when both birds are out.

The baby mockingbirds have hatched!

Apparently, mom and dad are zooming out and about and back and forth all around the home bush frantically trying to find food for the little ones. We can't tell how many there are, yet, but at this rate the parents are going to be exhausted by the end of the week.

On a completely, irrelevant note, I got into a big fight with the stupid opossum last night when it visited the cat again. I let the Bartleby into the house while I yelled at the 'possum and then threatened it with a nice big walking stick. That had no effect so I had to actually use the stick and started poking and prodding the invader. It hissed and growl at me and backed itself into a corner so I bopped it a few times in the direction I wanted it to go. Of all times for Bartleby to become curious about anything. She came back out into the lanai to see what was going on. I had to use one foot to keep her away while prodding the stupid marsupial out the door. At least now, maybe, the 'possum will take the hint.

Dexterity . . . and Discretion

It appears Bartleby the Bad Penny is right-handed. Or right-pawed. She will eat her solid food from the bowl like a normal cat but prefers to scoop her water up with her paw. Apparently, enough liquid stays within the folds of her pads to be worth the effort. On the rare occasion when she does drink directly from the bowl she does so by parking her entire body over the bowl and licking up the far side pushing the water over the edge and onto the floor.

Bartleby also believes herself (mistakenly) to be a psychokinetic kitty. She will stare for long minutes and with ferocious intensity at the edge of the sliding door willing it, in vain, to open. She keeps trying at various distances and angles but with no success, at least so far. Eventually, she gives in and knocks. (She does, however, use her left paw to knock on the door.)


Actually, I am glad her ferociousness is limited to her staring contests with the sliding door. I've mentioned before that we leave the lanai screen door to the outside partially open so she can answer nature's call as she needs. Last night a 'possum noticed the opening and came in to steal her food right out of her dish while she was plonked in her chair directly above. I only noticed the critter as it was leaving. Bartleby, true to her namesake, did nothing. Which is just as well since the 'possum was bigger than she is and probably would have killed her in a fight.

Useless (but sensible) Beast.

Too Late For This Year

I was just listening to my local NPR station. They're doing a program on local Thanksgiving recipes.

Apparently, it's necessary to capture your Thanksgiving 'possum at least a month in advance so you can cage it and feed it nothing but sweet potatoes as a way of improving the flavor. "Like feeding acorns to a wood duck," according to one of the show's hosts.

Seriously, who knew?

Upstairs, Downstairs

Baby 'possum in the Lanai this morning. Kept trying to climb the glass doors. It must know it lives "up" somewhere but not how to get back there again. I banged on the doors to no effect. It finally crawled under the couch out there to hide form the dawn and rest up during the day. I'll wait until my brother is up and then we can tip the couch over.

. . . And The Livin' Is Easy

Hard to believe it's only the end of April. Feels like high summer has been with us for awhile already. We had the air conditioning on after it hit 90 in the house. Mom likes it that way (she wears her sweater for anything under 80 or if a breeze is blowing) but my brother nearly passed out so he turned it on (I was out at the time).

The tomatoes are coming along fine. In fact we picked a few of the cherry ones a couple of days ago. The peppers are looking good, too. No idea what the onions are up to.

The exterminators never came for the opossums but we haven't heard or seen them since so maybe they took the hint.

The Upstairs Neighbors, Part 2

My brother called around and animal control doesn't deal with evictions and the professional exterminators wanted $400-$800 for the job, so he thinks he's decided to do it himself except now he thinks he might wait awhile because if they've already had their litter he doesn't want little orphan 'possums (technically not orphaned but abandoned since he intends to transport the putative parents) dying up there and stinking up the house.

Translation: He's really a big softy when it comes to critters of any kind.

The Upstairs Neighbors

My brother spent all last night battling around the house with two very large opossums that have taken over the attic/crawl space. He tried plugging up their apparent entryway over the garage only to find they had another on the other side of the house. He fought one of them with a broom in the lanai. (He had the broom, not the opossum.) So, now, after three hours sleep he's calling city animal control to see if they can help, if not he'll buy a trap and hope they're dumb enough to fall for it (the rat wasn't) so he can release them up north.

He's pretty sure they're the critters that stole the tomatoes.

Kind of makes me wonder--if the opossums are about--why the young cats keep coming into the lanai to visit. I think the 'possum could take one of them apart with ease.

The Wild Life

We live in a stereotypical suburban development.

Earlier this winter, my brother heard loud noises in the ceiling crawl space. After some fumbling around with ladders and flashlights we determined that a raccoon had taken possession of the attic. My brother chased it out and found a loose board under an eave above a projection that allowed the beastie to climb up and in. He reattached it and the attic has remained vacant.

In January, something ate through the connecting hose between the dishwasher and the sink drain. My brother replaced the hose and set a mousetrap under the sink. When that was tripped to no effect, he went out and bought a much larger rat trap but the rat was way too smart for that. It did make the mistake of coming out while I was up, though. It was huge, fat, sleek and beautiful. I chased it along the edge of the living room and behind the bookcase. When it came out the other side I was afraid it was going for my brother's room but it took a left into the laundry room instead. I blocked off the space under the laundry room door and chased it into the garage (which door has a step and therefor no clearance allowing re-entry). It hasn't returned that I know of but it was fastidiously clean and (unlike a mouse) left no indication of it's presence anywhere visible.

A few nights ago, as I was sitting in the living room, I noticed a little face pushed up against the glass door to the lanai (the wall between the living room and lanai consists of three floor-to-ceiling glass panels one of which slides open). It was an opossum. I went to the door and waved at it to no effect. So I took the Hammacher Schlemmer catalog (which has multiple offerings of expensive high tech toys and cleaning robots and shoes and slippers for sufferers of plantars fascitis (hey, it's their demographic) but not one thing (I checked) for removing 'possums from your back porch) and slapped the glass with it. It moved to look around the catalog. So I turned on the lanai light. It blinked, assumed it was now daylight, and slowly walked back to the hot tub where there is apparently a hole in the screen big enough for a 'possum to get through.

Yesterday, as my brother was carrying groceries in from his truck, he had to stop at the front door to say hello to a rabbit that was hanging out with one of the gnomes. Last night the opossum was back in the lanai peering into the living room again.

We live in a stereotypical suburban development. Really.