The blizzard of 2015 is coming, a "Nor' Beaster" they say. The supposedly historic
storm that will wallop the northeast, particularly the coast, has gotten
everyone in a tizzy. Normally, being closer to the coast has the benefit of
giving us six to twelve inches less snow than our neighbors will receive one
hour west. My husband the boy scout has made his preparedness list: firewood
inside for the woodstove, water jugs filled, batteries, bird feeders filled, chicken
coop prepared. And of course, bread and milk. Don’t know why the last one; we’re
mostly gluten free and lactose intolerant.
This morning, while the snow was still whispering of the
threat to come, Jay and I cleaned out the chicken coop and put down lime, diatomaceous
earth and fresh shavings. The dogs came out with us. Our geriatric Golden Retriever, Chardonnay, lives
for this kind of weather. Snow is heaven for a Golden. For Coraline, the
short-haired Shar-pei mix, not so much.
She wears her pink jacket when it’s cold and has a low tolerance of the whole
precipitation thing.
The chickens’ water and food dispensers were filled. The
water and its heater were brought inside so when the storm hits, the girls and
the new rooster, Sam, can stay closed up comfortably inside. They
have a heater in their coop to keep the worst of the chill off, as long as we
have power. As we worked, the chickens were everywhere we didn’t want them to
be; in the way of the rake and shovel, clucking ahead of me while I focused on
my tasks at hand. I finally asked Jay to offer them scratch outside to try to
give me some room to work.
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| Sam and his girls |
Coraline became tired of waiting for us to let her back
inside, and as she has been known to do, let herself back in by pulling the
door handle down. Cory will shut the door behind her, but only if we are there
to instruct her. We were still working outside and didn’t notice the wide open
back door for a few minutes. A couple of cats wandered out, marveling at the
snow. I heard a “Crap!” and looked up to see Jay rushing to the door to close
it, cats running back in as he approached. Cory was shut in the house. Fortunately,
she doesn’t know how to open the door from the inside.
Back in the house and outside chores completed, Jay looked
out the window and noticed a small bird that wasn’t acting right. At first it
appeared that the tiny black and grey Chickadee was carrying a thread. Then it
became apparent that it was entangled and tethered to the tree by the thread. Jay
held the bird while I worked to get it loose from the almost invisible thread
that was wrapped around its body. Even its foot was bound to
a flight feather. The little guy was frightened, but still had the wherewithal to
bite us. Fortunately, a Chickadee bite isn’t as powerful as that of a chicken. After
about five minutes, the thread was separated and the Chickadee flew away. It
would have been a great viral video moment had anyone been there to record it. We
feel so fortunate to have been in the right place at the right time.
Most of the storm preparation completed, Jay went upstairs to take a call
for work. I decided to fill the dogs’ five gallon water jug. I got our big red Maine
Coon, Pipsqueak, out of the sink so I could fill the jug. She still hovered
close by, supervising my actions. “Could you move?” I asked while putting her
on the floor. Why do the animals always have to get in the way when I’m busy?
They always seem to be right where I’m walking or about to sit.
I looked out the kitchen window as the snow gently covered
the ground, dusting the black smoke cat who was wandering around the bird
feeder. Crap! We missed one. Tina is our adventurous, and pregnant, female. I turned
off the running water and rushed to put my boots and coat on. Jay called down
to me to ask where the kitten was. He
couldn’t find little Kate in our master bathroom where she is supposed to be and
her mother, Kiss, was frantic. I had a new priority and yelled, “Tina is outside!” as I went out
in the snow.
I circled the house, calling and looking under bushes. Normally
if a cat gets out, it will instinctively hide under our deck. Our cats are
exclusively indoors so the great outdoors terrifies them. Except for Tina, that
is. She's an indoor cat, but a rebellious one. The last I’d seen of Tina was when she was leaving the bird feeder area and
headed toward the front yard. Tina had kept several steps ahead of me and also
circled the house where I found her sitting calmly by the back door once I
caught up. Apparently the adventure had lost some of its fun with the reality
of snow and cold. I opened the door and Tina sauntered in. Wiping the snow off
of her coat, I lectured all the creatures surrounding me about the dangers of
going out. Didn’t they know there was a blizzard coming? Be grateful you don’t
have to live outside, dammit!
Jay called back downstairs. Did I know where the kitten was?
Jeez! I had a good idea since I’d heard the cabinet doors under our bathroom
sink opening and closing before. Under the sink, behind closed cabinet doors,
we have a laundry drop to the washing machine downstairs. The drop is about two
feet before the clothes land in the basket. I had done most of the laundry, but
there were still dirty clothes in there. I reached up and opened the cabinet
over the washing machine and pulled out the basket of clothes. Sure enough,
cute little 5-week-old Kate the kitten sat there nestled in the laundry and looking very
comfortable in her new bed. I took the kitten back to her anxious mother
upstairs and, using a bungee cord, secured the cabinet doors.
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| Kate the laundry princess |
Enough drama with the animals already! Can we just get on
with the blizzard? Check back with me tomorrow to see if I need digging out.
