Animal ER

Yep, we need an animal ER around here. It's been animal adventures the last few weeks. Unfortunately, not all the stories end happily. I'll start with the most dramatic, titled in W's journal as "Day of Death."

• One day we found a cute little chipmunk in our house. He had been attracted by the sunflower seeds we scatter on the deck for the chickadees and finches. A very friendly, young chipmunk, easily tamed. We had him eating out of our hands in no time. And he would nonchalantly stroll into the house and run around the kitchen for a while with the kids chasing him until he got tired and ran out the door. Well, we also had some "pet" salamanders and some "pet" algae living in a tub out on the deck. One night it rained and rained and rained and rained and the water level in the tub went up and up. The next morning A came screaming into my room, tears streaming down his face: "Our chipmunk is dead!" Tragically, he had drowned in the salamander tub. It was really very sad and we all cried for a while. Then we held a chipmunk funeral. Here's a picture of his grave:

• There is a family of robins who build a nest under our deck every year. Right now there are three nests, all on top of and beside each other since they feel the need to build a new one every spring, apparently. This year there were 5 baby robins in the nest and we watched them hatch and grow and eat chewed up worms. The day after the tragedy with the chipmunk W came screaming into my room, tears streaming down his face: "One of the baby robins fell out of the nest and is dead." Yep, it was true, although I think it was pushed out of the nest by the other 4 greedy little birds. W, still crying, observed that "it didn't even have a feather! Why do little things always have to die?" I had to agree: "Life is hard for little things." We buried it with the chipmunk.They now have a plan to pad the ground under the nest next year with foam to catch any other baby birds that happen to fall out.
• A few nights ago, Eric walked into the house with a baby killdeer (bird).

Thankfully it wasn't dead or injured, just stupid. 4 of these little babies were running across the road and he stopped to pick one up and bring to safety (via our house). I don't know much about these birds except that they lay their eggs right on the ground, usually in a rocky area and if you approach the nest the mother bird will flap around like she has a broken wing and lead you away from her eggs while the father bird flies around and screeches at you. They are very fast runners as you probably could have guessed by looking at this baby's long skinny legs. So let's hope this one survives!

• We've also had all manner of frogs, toads, grasshoppers, leeches, daddy long legs, etc. as "pets". M had a pretty pink grasshopper that she loved to death. And W is dead set on capturing a dragonfly and putting it on a leash made of dental floss. I do not know where he gets these ideas but I wish him luck!
  

Little, Little Bird

This little hummingbird in Eric's hand is not (thankfully) dead. It is just stunned. I went out to the garage to take care of some recycling and heard this strange buzzing noise. Looking up I noticed these two things flying around and at first I thought they were bats since it was dusk. But bats flap more and looking closer I discovered they were actually hummingbirds. Eric was mowing the lawn so I waved him down and warned him to be quiet and come see this. We watched the two birds for a while and suddenly this one just dropped onto the cement. Of course we thought it was dead but nope, it's little heart was beating super fast and it was still breathing. See how it's holding its beak in its little claw? So cute. We went and got all the kids out of bed to come see the little hummingbird and in a few minutes it woke up, looked around (I ran for the camera again but...too late) and flew away. We see it once in a while, sipping nectar from our iris flowers. Now how many kids can say they have a pet hummingbird?

Stars and Stripes

Hello, poor neglected blog! Here's a story for you:

Sunday, May 31 was the first annual "Hope of America" concert here in VT. When the directors were recruiting singers I asked W if he wanted to be in it. "Nope," was the firm reply so I didn't pursue it much. Then, the night before the concert, he realized that all of his friends and most of his cub scout den were singing in it and therefore he MUST be part of it. I whipped out the cd for him to listen to that night only he fell asleep after the third song. Well, I figured, he's just a little guy and no one will expect the little ones to do much singing anyway. Rehearsal started at 5 p.m. sharp and they were so adorable (I don't have pictures yet but will soon). All the kids had matching T-shirts and a few of them even knew the songs! The directors put in a lot of work and it was a very professional show with a slideshow during the song "Thank You, Military" which touched even the heart of an unpatriotic Canadian. There were many vets in attendance and they were each presented with a certificate of thanks. The only negative aspect of the concert was the weather. Yes, we all prayed that it wouldn't rain but no one thought to pray that it wouldn't snow! You would think, on May 31st, that the weather would be summery and beautiful. Wrong. It was so, so cold. We had frost overnight. The poor little kids, after being outside for 3 hours, were just little frozen popsicles. But on the way home in the van, heat blasting his face, W proclaimed himself "tired, happy, and proud." I asked why he felt that way. "Because, I got to be one of the 4 most important people there. I got to be the "O" (in the song V-O-T-E)" He was the best "O" I've ever seen, I must say. Possibly the only "O" I've ever seen, but still, his timing was impeccable. Those piano lessons must be paying off.

P.S. When the color guard presented the flag and we all stood for the national anthem (W with his left hand over his right chest since the poor kid is left handed and probably doesn't realize his heart is on the left). I was singing along with my hands in my pockets (remember: COLD!) when A turned to me and tugged on my arm. "Mommy," he whispered, "you have to put your hand on your heart." "Oh, sweetie," I replied, "I just can't do that. It feels too weird to me." "But mommy, everyone puts their hands on their hearts during the song!" Daddy intervened, "A, this isn't mommy's country and it's not really her flag so she doesn't have to put her hand on her heart." Now, just to emphasize, I'm happy to be living in this country and I support and thank the military for their service and have very good friends in the air force. I've learned the pledge of allegience, I sing "The Star Spangled Banner" and I have an American flag-type thing on my front door this time of year. But for some reason I just cannot put my hand over my heart when I see the flag (or whatever the protocol is). I don't know why, I just can't do it. Someone asked me , don't Canadians do that, too? And I think my mouth gaped open in horror. No! I exclaimed, and if we did that would make doing it here even worse! So, anyway, happy Memorial Day from a flag waving Canadian.