Friday Felines

I love oysters raw or cooked. I found some called Daufuski the other day and decided to have oysters on a cracker with cocktail sauce for lunch. They were so delicious that Smokey came and sat next to me.

"I smell oysters."

“I smell oysters.”

So I gave him some. I don’t think he enjoyed them as much as I did, but he ate them.

"Mmmmm …"

“Mmmmm …”

Zeke can always tell when food is being handed out, but he didn’t get any that day.

"Doesn't the dog get any?"

“Doesn’t the dog get any?”

Oysters are just for me and the cat. None for the dog or Mark (Mark won’t eat them anyway.)

Hummer riot

Although we have always had lots of hummingbirds over the years, for most of this summer we had very few. In the past, a full feeder would be emptied in one day. For most of this summer, a feeder would last for two or three weeks. In the last couple of weeks, the hummers have come back. I shot this video with my iPhone through the living room sliding glass door.

Immediately prior to this there were even more, but apparently some of them were not comfortable with my being so close. Only a few came when I tried shooting outside. The feeder was full in the morning. I shot this in the late afternoon, when it was nearly empty.

I love these little birds, but they don’t share much of the love with each other.

Lucy gets a new bedroom

I have been slowly and sporadically writing about the dogs I have had through the years. I intended to do it chronologically, but I’m going to jump forward in time to our most recent dog, Lucy.

Lucy was my mother’s dog. The story of how my mother, who was not a dog person, ended up with Lucy starts back in 1999, when I returned to live at my parents’ house. I moved back home mainly because my mother and father had health issues, and I thought it would be better for me to be closer than a two-hour drive. I should probably have stayed in the Huntsville area, because I was still working in Huntsville and had to stay over there all week. I could have kept my house in Alabama and just come home for weekends. But I didn’t.

My father died in 2000, after I started building the house where Leah and I live now. We moved in right after we got married in 2005. After that I was worried about my mother being lonely, so I encouraged her to get a dog for company. One day while I was in Huntsville, Leah and her father took my mother to a dog rescue and she came home with Lucy.

Lucy and my mother soon accommodated to each other, and even though my mother never really became a dog person, she grew really attached to Lucy. Lucy sat with my mother while she watched television, and eventually she slept right beside her when they went to bed. I think Lucy provided a lot of company and comfort for my mother when she would otherwise have been alone.

Here’s Lucy making herself at home on my mother in the assisted living facility.

lucy on my mother

A couple of weeks before my mother died, Leah and I took Lucy home with us. At least one of the staff at the assisted living facility where my mother stayed for a few months said he wanted Lucy, but we decided that since I was the one who encouraged my mother to take Lucy, we (notice how “I” became “we”) should take her.

We brought Lucy with us when we saw my mother. Occasionally we put her up in the bed to let her snuggle.

lucy on the bed

Lucy has some characteristics that are hard to take. She barks a lot, which is not uncommon for little dogs, but we think it has also caused Zeke to bark more. She is food obsessed. She tries to eat the food Leah puts down for the cats (Leah says she’s a pain in the butt). She tends to nip your fingers when you give her food by hand, a trait I’m afraid my mother made worse. My mother couldn’t bend down very far, so she tended to drop treats so that Lucy had to snatch quickly. That tendency made my mother even less likely to try to hand a treat directly to Lucy, so she always dropped the treat and Lucy had to snap to get it. So Lucy is used to snapping to get treats. Lucy is also harder to train on the leash than any dog I have had.

But the worst behavior is that she poops in the house. I have never had any problem house breaking any dog I have ever had, up until I got Lucy. I’m afraid we tend to blame my mother for this problem, too. My mother was completely deaf in one ear due to surgery, and had a pretty significant deficit in the other ear. We assume that initially Lucy might have barked to be let out, but when my mother didn’t hear and let her out, Lucy ended up relieving herself in an out-of-the-way place inside. Eventually Lucy got used to doing it, and now she does it in our house. Not always, but too often. We have always been careful to take the dogs out frequently and to pay attention to their behavior so we can tell when they might need to go out. We take Lucy and Zeke out a lot, but it has not kept Lucy from doing her business inside.

She has done it while we are out for a few hours, and she has done it during the night while we’re in bed. She did it last night, and that was the last straw. The only solution we could come up with was a kennel, so now Lucy has her own little den where she’s going to spend the night and stay in while we’re out.

Here’s Lucy trying out her new kennel.

lucy in the kennel

She went into the kennel voluntarily. She didn’t seem to be spooked when I closed the door. We’re going to try to make sure she sees it as a positive thing rather than as punishment. We’ll see how it goes Monday night.

I have to admit that it has been hard to get used to having Lucy around. Neither of us can find much to love about her, but she earned her keep when she lived with my mother.

I might have to burn the place

I thought I had found and eliminated the wasp nest responsible for the stings I got last week, but when I was working on the deck Saturday afternoon, I got stung again. This time the wasp got me four times before I killed it. I swatted at the wasp as it stung me on the chest, and then it stung my arm. The sting on my chest was not bad, but it got me twice on the inside of my arm just above my wrist, and a third time on my elbow. Within a short time my arm was red and swollen from my hand to my elbow. I looked like Popeye.

I used two cold packs in the evening. They helped while they were on my arm, but didn’t provide any relief after I removed them. If I had taken a dose of diphenhydramine immediately it might have helped, but we didn’t have any and I can’t take diphenhydramine anyway.

I put some cortisone cream on the stings when we went to bed, but my arm continued to itch so intensely that I couldn’t sleep. The only thing that gave me any relief was running extremely hot water over most of my forearm. I had to do it twice during the night. Otherwise I might have scratched my arm raw.

On Sunday my arm still felt kind of like an overinflated balloon. Now, as I write this Sunday evening the swelling seems to be going down, and a topical diphenhydramine cream seems to help a little. I will probably have to use the hot-water treatment again tonight.

Right before bedtime on Saturday I went out with a can of wasp and hornet spray. (If you need this kind of spray, I recommend Raid, not Hot Shot.). I carefully rechecked the under side of the upper deck and found nothing. Then I went under the lower deck. The lower deck has between three and four feet of clearance on the southeast corner, but only about a foot and a half on the northwest end, decreasing as you go under. I slid under and looked up. There it was, another small nest. I doused it and kept looking. It had rained so the ground was pretty muddy. Of course I had to slide around on my back. I couldn’t find any more active nests, so maybe I have eliminated the problem. I think I’m going to have a hard time making myself go back out there again, though.