Posted by: Becky St. Clair in Wildlife, Scenery on
Mar 01, 2010
So the groundhog saw his shadow this year, huh? Six more weeks of winter. Everyone cringes to hear it. Even here in Walla Walla, where we’ve had one of the most mild winters since I’ve been here (which has now been nearly a decade; I can’t believe it!). Lots of fog, yes. A little rain, sure. And even a bit of snow, albeit a tad less than usual. But nothing hardcore; not even the temperatures gave us much to complain about this year.
Me? I don’t buy it. First of all, we had several 60-degree days in mid-January. I strode down the sidewalks without a jacket on and was comfortably warm, soaking up the sun.
Secondly, I hear birds. In the morning when I get up, there’s chirping. The kingfisher is back, hunting for meals around the branch of the Little Walla Walla River that runs in front of my house. Granted, I haven’t yet seen my first robin of the year, but I’m prepared to welcome her any day now.
Thirdly, my bulbs are coming up. The daffodils are frighteningly close to blooming, and I’m already greeted by deep purple crocuses every morning as I climb the steps to my office.
Really, what does a groundhog know, anyway?
Posted by: Sam McLeod in Wildlife on
Sep 14, 2009
Well, we thought BIG was a Great Pyrenees puppy when we bought him. That's the way he was advertised. That's what the folks said when we picked him up. That's what he looked like for the next month.
At five months of age, BIG's true colors started showing.
Great Pyrenees are fearless in the face of danger-even the puppies. But confronted with a threat-like a skunk nosing around the chicken coop-BIG would cower at the door and bark furiously as if to say," There's something really scary out here and you humans need to come out and deal with it while I hide under your bed."
Great Pyrenees have cotton-like coats that shun dirt. BIG's coat was not cotton-like. Most of the time, he looked a lot like stuffed animal that had been drug though the dirt.
Great Pyrenees patrol fence perimeters all night long. BIG slept on the old sofa out in the barn. Patrolling wasn't his thing.
Now don't get me wrong. BIG is a sweet dog and we do love the BIG coward, but we'd gone for a guard dog and come back with a lap dog. So, Annie went in search of another Great Pyrenees puppy.
Here he is. His name's Bear. At four months he stands at the fence in the middle of the night and growls at unseen intruders. He patrols the fence line constantly. He's a BIG comfort to BIG. And his coat is cotton-like.
Posted by: Becky St. Clair in Wildlife, Scenery on
Jun 29, 2009
The other day my husband and I had a dinner picnic in one of the valley's many parks. As we enjoyed the warm evening breeze as the sun dipped closer to the tops of the houses across the street, we noticed a small group of children running along the creek. They seemed to be excited about something. Turning, I smiled when I noticed what it was: A mama duck and her twelve babies. The kids chased the birds downstream until they found a place to get closer to the water to observe.
A few days later, at the same park, we were enjoying lunch on the grass when two large Labradors wandered over to say hello. A dog-lover, I couldn't help but pet them and enjoy their wagging tails and dripping tongues. Their owner walked a fair distance behind, keeping an eye on their behavior. Bored with me, the dogs galloped to the creek and plunged in, barking at the rushes where two ducks had disappeared.
As we packed up our lunch and headed back to the car, we passed a family headed into the park with baseball gloves, bats, and a small stash of balls. I smiled as the kids raced to the swings ahead of their parents.
Posted by: Sam McLeod in Wildlife on
May 11, 2009
BIG, our four-month-old Great Pyrenees puppy, is exhausted from pulling another all-nighter in his year-long course on "Being the Perfect Guard Dog." Sam, our five-year-old Pyrenees, is BIG's teacher.
BIG is trying hard to measure up, but easily loses focus. Most anything is a distraction-a hen pheasant flying down the fencerow, a turkey wandering the riverbank, a vole escaping into its hole. Distraction is what BIG does best.
Right at dusk, Sam starts his nightly watch, wandering the perimeter of our outpost while I sit here on the porch in the fading light. BIG falls in behind Sam, biting at his tail.
A bobcat appears at the edge of the woods. Sam notices but doesn't bark. Bobcats aren't much of a threat. But BIG barks like our lives depend on it.
Sam looks down at BIG and shakes his head.
Posted by: Sam McLeod in Wildlife on
Mar 09, 2009
Our Say's Phoebes are back. (I say "our" only by way of description. We lay no real claim to them.)
Since we built our barn back in 2005, they've nested in its rafters each year. They arrive mid-February (much earlier than the books say they will) and depart when I threaten to shoot them (an empty threat) in early September. By then, parents and chicks are flying around all over the place, pooping on everything in sight-the backs of our porch chairs, the porch lights on the cottage, the gate railing and its latch. The dogs are tired of chasing them. Even BC, the barn cat, has given up her quest to snatch one from the air while they're mobbing her. So they're free to poop wherever they like, unchallenged except by me and I'm no challenge.
They arrived February 18-pink-breasted and feisty. The female is checking out nest sites, but will probably choose the same place she's chosen every year, the rafter right above my car. You guessed it, more poop. While she looks for accommodations, her mate pesters BC, trying to establish some ground rules before the babies are born-probably April. Both fly up and down the fence lines in the evening, driving the dogs crazy. It's a little game they'll play each night until the dogs tire of it.
Annie and I are glad to see them.
