Fluffination

When you rub the belly of a big, fluffy, upsidedown manly-man-of-a-cat, it is called FLUFFINATION!

Julius is caught in the act, and not even ashamed:

"Huh? I vant to be alone! Well, except for the hand of Daddy rubbing my belly."

"Oooh yeah baby, ooooh yeah. A little to the left!"

This from the cat who was wild when I found him, and wouldn't let me touch him for two months.

And now for something completely different. It snowed last Sunday, and I have evidence:


We were having lunch in Buckingham, which is a cute little town about 15 minutes from here. It didn't stick, but it WAS snow. That is obscene in October, but I can't say it surprised me.

On my walk yesterday, a ruffed grouse flew out of the ditch and scared the crap out of me. Actually, I'm not sure who was more alarmed, me or the grouse. And just on Wednesday, we found a dead grouse by the side of the road. That's three of them that I have seen since we moved in. Ruffed grouse country! I also found a huge amount of wild turkey feathers strewn along the shoulder of the road on another walk this month. Beautiful feathers, but there were so many that I knew the bird hadn't survived. Still, there was no road kill evidence; I think it was an attack by a predator rather than by a car.

Yesterday I found more mystery feathers strewn along the side of the road in a similar fashion. They might be grouse feathers. I have to figure it out. Just call me the Nature Detective. Still, at least I haven't turned the corner in my own backyard to find a bull moose staring me in the face, like my friend Debbie back in our old village of Prospect, NS! No harm done, fortunately. Moose are pretty rare around there so I'm amazed she found one in her backyard.

So far on my daily walks I have seen two dead garter snakes, one dead toad (looked like he was sleeping, but he was stiff as a board), one dead frog, evidence of one dead wild turkey, evidence of one dead mystery bird, one live ruffed grouse, many turkey vultures, a loon on the lake, deer tracks, and lots of little birds. Never a dull moment around here. The only actual squashed dead thing was the poor frog in the middle of the road.

Julius keeps stealing the turkey feathers that I brought home. He really, reeeeeally likes them.