Journal of a Sabbatical

May 31, 2000

a horse, of course

Today's Bird Sightings:
Plum Island
eastern kingbird (5)
American robin (1)
purple martin (6)
mute swan (5)
gadwall (1)
Canada goose (16)
great egret (6)
snowy egret (2)
great blue heron (1)
double crested cormorant (26)
mallard (43)
redwinged blackbird (9)
house sparrow (1)
gray catbird (4)
yellow warbler (3)
great black backed gull (1)
bobolink (1)
common grackle (4)
brown headed cowbird (1)
herring gull (1)
willet (2)
brown thrasher (1)
Herptiles:
eastern painted turtle (2)
Joppa Flats
great egret (3)
snowy egret (1)
herring gull (6)
mallard (a lot)

Today's Reading: The Birds of Brewery Creek by Malcolm MacDonald,
Uttermost Part of the Earth by E. Lucas Bridges

Today's Starting Pitcher:
Pete Shourek

A horse would not have occurred to me as one of the top ten reasons the parking lot at the cat shelter is full, but there it is. A horse, a horse trailer, and a truck. Just what you expect to find at your average cat shelter. I guess horses don't get to use the front door at the vet downstairs. So the answer to today's quiz, "Why is the parking lot full?" , is "A horse, of course." This sends those of us old enough to remember Mister Ed the talking horse and Wiiiiiiillllburrr into paroxysms of laughter while Giggle Girl is thoroughly mystified. Singing her the theme song "A horse is a horse, of course, of course, and no one can talk to a horse of course, unless the horse is the famous Mister Ed..." didn't clarify it for her at all. A horse, of course. For once, we're giggling and she's not.

Chloe did indeed go to her new home last week and so far has not returned. Her name is written on the adoptions board in red. I drew a smiley face next to it. I miss her - I brought coffee for her just in case - but I'm thrilled she's found a home. I'm glad she decided to be interested in people. Giggle Girl decides to imitate Chloe for me so I won't miss her so much. Sniffing the coffee and crowding me at the sink is one thing, but licking the coffee off the lid is something else. At first she just pretended to. Then she actually did it. Giggle Girl licked the lid of my coffee cup. Yuck. I find that way yuckier than Chloe's doing it. Chloe didn't slobber as much as Giggle Girl.

We have a pile of black and white kittens in the office. They're adorable. I play with them while I wait for Martha to arrive to go over to Brigham Manor with the cats (Nick and one of the other lovey ones). When Martha arrives she says she left voice mail saying she couldn't go to Brigham today because the elders who are adopting Julius want her to bring him over today. Nobody has listened to the voice mail yet. Evidently Martha has forgotten the secret number for the alternate ring so we'll answer the phone before 11:00 AM. Oops. Anyway she holds the black and white kittens for me to photograph before she goes off to the Julius people. They're way old (he's in his early 90's, she's in the mid-80's) so I'm surprised they want Julius who is young and feisty. I'd've thought they'd want an older cat. But when you gotta have an orange boy you've gotta have an orange boy. Go Julius!

So the time I would have spent at Brigham I spend looking for birds and used books. The birding is pretty quiet after the exciting days I've had lately. Only one bobolink - but a very vocal one. I think a pair is nesting near the Hellcat dike. The brown headed cowbird is always in the same spot near the Pines Trail. I wonder why. It's not like he has to defend a nest (they lay their eggs in other birds' nests like cuckoos). Maybe he just likes the Pines Trail.

At Olde Port Book Shop, Domino takes me prisoner. I sit down in the rocking chair to browse a book of stories by W.H. Hudson trying to decide if I want it. Domino climbs onto my lap and then onto my chest the way Wilbur does and demands petting. She is not going to let me go until she is darn well ready. Interesting sales technique. When she finally lets me go, without the W.H. Hudson book - I really want his book about growing up in Argentina or his book about the birds of La Plata rather than anymore of the novels - I go back upstairs and browse the Americana section for local stuff as always. A group of people walk by outside, one guy clearly showing the others around town. He tells them this store sells antiquated books and it's an antiquated bookstore. I think he meant antiquarian. But Domino is kind of an antiquated cat...