"PressOn"

It was quiet on the cabin porch this morning. The trees were silent with no wind to give them the sound of time passing. The clouds in the sky quietly drifted by. The fog wandered in and covered the hills like white frosting on a cake never making a sound. The sunlight began to touch the trees and woods floor and the distant hills silently. The birds came to get a drink and some seed quietly. The only sound we heard was the creek of the porch swing chains as I moved back and forth listening for the first sound of the morning to unfold. There it was. A Hummingbird came by with its soft, gentle hum. The second one caused a minor scuffle at the feeder. Then we heard the crack and pop of the gravel as the little yellow school bus turned from the paved road to the gravel road that runs by the cabin. It must be seven o'clock. When the big, black tires of civilization hit the gravel road it signals their arrival to all those who are listening. When the bus gets to its destination nearby the back up beeper turns on and pierces the quiet morning air like a sharp, shiny knife. The dogs bark to warn of this mighty intrusion. Then, all loaded up the little yellow school bus leaves our quiet space and heads back to the city to deliver its passenger for a day at school. Now we will see the little red truck go by followed shortly by the little white truck tossing up clouds of white dust behind them from our dry gravel road. The fine, white dust will settle back down on the road and the weeds and the trees. This will pretty much be the activity for the day unless Loretta our neighbor across the road decides to go to town. She will put Reuben her black and brown curly haired dachshund out and he will bark about it. Bo, her big dog will say nothing. He is a kind gentle giant. Loretta is a wonderful neighbor and our only one within earshot.
Gypsy is on her porch chewing on a bone thinking about the lizard and snakes that she could not catch that live in the remnants of a redbud tree we cut down last year. It left a bush behind we trim and manicure for them so Gypsy can spend her days in hot pursuit. She thinks lizards and snakes at bad characters and need to be dug up, chased and chewed. She is totally mesmerized by them and spends the entire day with her nose in the bush. Last night, I had to take a leash out to get her to stop. She was very near to getting smacked by the end of the leash for not coming. However, at the last minute I decided if there was a lizard or a snake in the bush, it would be hard even for the likes of me to give up the chase and retire for the night. You guessed it. This morning in the cool, crisp, quiet air Gypsy slinked down to the bush. She used all her wiles not be detected as she silently stalked her way. At some point her desire overcomes her and she breaks and pounces on the bush. Ah yes, almost got them this time. She is determined and so are they. This is play time in the Angel Patch inside Gypsys five foot high, cedar post rabbit fence. By the way, the rabbits somehow get through this fence occasionlly. It is then up to me to see them before Gypsy does and chase them out to safety. Gypsy does not want you to think that she would catch and kill a rabbit. She actually likes rabbits better than cats. She does not want you to think she would kill any animal that turns up in her area. She wants you to know that she just means to give them a good scare and let them go. In her heart of hearts she believes this. In our heart of hearts we know better.
Monday we will trap our first feral cats to take them to the vet in Boerne, Texas. They will get a rabies shot and be neutered. They will get a small piece of their ears clipped off so animal control will know they are not to be taken. It is called TNR. This helps to maintain a healthy feral cat colony. They are magnificent creatures and will survive long after us. They live and play on their porch which is on the opposite side of the cabin from Gypsys porch. If they are foolhearty enough to get onto the wrong porch someone might get hurt. Yes, there is alittle tension here at the cabin. Gypsy says she can't help how she feels about cats. She says if I knew all the stories she could tell me about them, I would understand. She sees no need for cats, feral or not. My guess is she has perhaps an overblown confidence of her ability to handle a cat. She thinks it would be a cake walk, one of her half baked adeas. My days of separating and patroling the porches are surely not over. Somehow we must all learn to live together in peace. Gypsy is rolling on her back on her porch laughing with visions of lizards, snakes, rabbits and cats dancing in her head and the only peace she sees, is a piece in her mouth. She says that will be the day. Persistance and determination alone are omnipotent. Press on.