At Least it’s Not Jurassic Park

One of the things I love about living here is the abundance of wildlife. The whales are a delight. The porpoises, seals, sharks, even jellyfish, are fascinating and I get to learn more about them every year.

The semi-aquatic life includes tortoises and otters. I’m getting better at seeing through the trees to the deer, rabbits, and maybe someday one of the mythical moose.

Birds are plentiful. I love the spotted tail seagulls, the eagles, and osprey, and cardinals, and jays, and well all of them. Fish is particularly fond of crows. He seems to think they are going to teach him to fly.

My house has regular visitors as well – some of which I encourage. The hummingbirds are moving up the coast and will arrive soon. I leave water out for the feral cats and the ground sparrows. I also have a growing herd pack group of canine friends. They come visit looking for cookies – I’ve had to start buying them in bulk.

One of my favourites is a large yellow lab named Prince. He’s a dufus but he’s sweet and gentle and adorable. He’s also big enough that he can open my back door. There are times I head outside to find it wide open and a crowd of dogs sitting there in eager anticipation.

Apparently I was gone too long this morning on my short trip to take some photos. I got back to find my back door open – OK, I thought, he was here. Then I had a chance to look around and um, he’d wandered through the place for a while.

The two bowls of dry catfood were no longer on the table. They were on the floor and emptied. The two plates of unfinished wet catfood, and the dish of uneaten dog food, were out in the back yard. Emptied.

He came down the hill while I was cleaning up to get the cookie he’d been looking for. I apologized for not being there when he visited earlier.

Yesterday afternoon Fish and I were sitting on the recliner watching TV when there was a noise at the dining room window. A huge pigeon was flapping its wings and hovering there watching us.

Fish was speechless. I was really confused. It didn’t try to get in the window – it just seemed to want our attention. It moved to the clothesline – which, given its weight, bounced up and down quite dramatically.

I forgot about it until I took Fish out a few hours later. Opening the back door startled the bird which apparently had been perched right above me. Huh? It didn’t go far – just further along the roof and then looked at me like it was waiting for something.

Now I know that there are people on this Island who are feeding pigeons. I’m not one of them. I told it that I appreciated the visit but it had to go home.

I mentioned to a friend of mine that the bird hadn’t left. He said I should go all Granny Clampett and shoot the thing. There are some obvious problems with that piece of advice.

First of all I don’t look anything like her. I’m younger. I’m taller. I don’t wear house dresses. And did I mention that I’m MUCH younger? Also, I’m not going to shoot anything. Even if I wanted to (and I don’t) I’d never be able to aim a gun with these shaky hands.

This helpful (?) suggestion was not going to be adopted. I kindly and carefully explained to the bird that if it wanted food or a place to nest that it should GO HOME.

He/she/it (I can’t sex a pigeon) finally jumped into the air, about 3 feet above my head, and circled me, Fish, and now Prince (who had come looking for the usual). Prince finally chased it up to his house (Sorry Anna).

This is what I saw when I took Fish out this morning………………… I’m doomed.