Cat
Stray cats tend to find our place. A couple of years ago on April 15, we were selected by a grey and white tom cat. I first spied him walking across the feedlot towards the house. After a few minutes he appeared between the fence and the water tank. Next, he popped up on the old loading chute. He jumped down and picked his was across the muddy drive way. Next thing I knew, he was sitting beside me at the corner of the garage. He washed away some mud from a front paw. I asked him just exactly who he thought he was, making himself so at home. Confidence was a strong point with this cat. Had he spoken English, his first words would have been, “Hey. This is your lucky day. I am here to make your life complete.”
With a flick of his tail, he sized up the garage, and strolled inside for a look. Ducking under the car, he disappeared from sight. A rattling and commotion ensued. A few minutes later, decorated with dust and carrying a limp mouse tightly clamped in his jaws, the cat approached. Ceremoniously, he placed the dead mouse at my feet. Expectantly, he gazed into my eyes, waiting for praise and accolades.
“Do you really think one mouse will get you in my good graces?” I asked. With a stretch and a sigh, he sauntered off for further garage investigations. I turned back to digging the iris. Suddenly, a large defunct cotton rat was dumped on the ground beside me. Again, the cat stared fixedly into my eyes.
I was had. The cat and I both knew it. Two dead rodents in twenty minutes were impressive by any standards.
In honor of his arrival date, he was named Taxes.
On continuous garage patrol, Taxes keeps the area varmint free. Regularly, when I open the man door to the garage, random dead mice, vols, cotton rats, snakes and an occasional frog are piled for approval. Taxes seats himself beside his kills, and polishes a front paw. After the expected praise, he reminds me with that look, “I told you so. This is your lucky day.”
Dog
Meet Annie. Usually, a rug on the garage floor is plenty warm for a good rest. But -4 and
getting colder is beyond the norm. Here, Annie says plainer than words, “Thank you” to her people. The grateful look, the comfortable fire. . . what a perfect visual for warmth, gratitude and contentment. Thanks to Annie and her family for sharing a perfect picture!
Bird
The birds are so hungry during this extremely cold weather. I have been baking bird cornbread during the past few days. I use lard or beef fat, extra eggs, no salt and just a pinch of baking powder for the bird cornbread. Your favorite cornbread recipe may be adapted in a similar fashion.
Many thanks to Annie’s family who shared these images of birds outside their home. The birds are eating the seeds from the heads of last year’s black-eyed Susans. Brave little feathered friends. Prayers for them and other wild animals outside during this bitter weather. God cares for them, too.
“Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they?” -Matthew 6:26,
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