Journal of a Sabbatical

August 16, 2000

cats, an avocet, and everything

Adopt these cats at Merrimack River Feline Rescue Society.

Today's Bird Sightings:
Plum Island
eastern kingbird
semipalmated sandpiper
sanderling
great egret
snowy egret
stilt sandpiper
least tern
gadwall
semipalmated plover
greater yellowlegs
tree swallow
herring gull
great blue heron
double crested cormorant
Canada goose
AMERICAN AVOCET
American black duck
common tern
great black back gull
American robin
redwinged blackbird
northern harrier
gray catbird

Today's Reading: Douglas of the Forests by John Davies

Today's Starting Pitcher: Rolando Arrojo

Sandy is firmly in charge of the big yellow bucket and so satiated with donuts (note donut box on top of fridge) that he isn't moving any time soon. Oh well, we can wait to get litter. Really we can. When he's not protecting the bucket, he's stretched out in front of the door - practicing being a doormat. He rolls over on his back looking for all the world like he wants a belly rub but you just know he's going to chomp you. Bob tries it anyway but has to back off quickly to avoid a bite. Poor Sandy. He's really a great cat. He just has this biting thing. I'll bet if he were in a one cat household with a guy or a group of guys - Ellen suggested a frat house this morning - he'd do a lot better. I can see him in a frat house, one where they leave the leftover pizza out all night...

Roy got to work ahead of me this morning. Me running late again. I appear just as they're starting to worry. Between people driving as if they've never seen rain before (exactly how many days has it been raining now?) and the longest line and slowest service I've ever experienced at a drive-thru I was beginning to think I'd never get here either. Anyway, because I was late, I missed hearing Roy tweeting like a bird in the stairwell because he's lost his bosun's whistle. Gee, I hope he finds it. How will we recognize him?

Lots of cats besides Sandy are interested in the dishes this morning. Titan comes by to check on our progress. Guiseppe rubs against my legs while I stand at the sink. Guiseppe is such a love. He just eats up affection. Not donuts, just affection. Roy offers Sandy and Titan and I think Sweet Pea some coffee but none of them share the Chloe way of knowledge. We laugh about Chloe's preference for hot beverages and hope that her adoptive people give her coffee or at least hot water (they did write to us that she drinks out of the tap, but they didn't specify hot or cold).

Sissy has taken to hanging out with Heidi. They groom each other, play together, curl up to sleep together. You'd think they were sisters. Sissy is very social. She just loves other cats. Heidi responds to her very well. She's a lot happier since Sissy took an interest in her. They're doing cute mutual grooming when I go get the camera but by the time I come back in the main room they're playing among the other cats. I sit on the credenza for awhile waiting for them to be cute again, but they seem to have other ideas and I'm getting hungry. Maybe next time.

The raccoon babies out by the parking lot are going to be released into the wild soon, so today's my last chance for cute raccoon pictures. When I was here on Monday, they were all piled up in the doorway of their little house watching it rain and looking miserable. Today they're quite active even though it's noon time. They haven't realized yet that they're nocturnal. One of them notices my dangling lens cap and tries his best to reach through the cage door to grab it. He actually does get hold of it for a second before I back away. I know they're wild animals, and I don't want to get bitten in the quest for a photo. I hope they learn to be nocturnal real soon, but I'll miss them.

Apparently, the Evening Lychnis doesn't know it's nocturnal either. It's in full bloom when I head for the refuge after lunch to see the avocet that's been reported. I dawdle on the way to Hellcat to see what birds are around and what weeds are in flower. There's a huge stand of Evening Primrose looking gorgeous against a fence but I figure I'll photograph it on the way back - trying not to lose sight of my mission to see the avocet.

At Hellcat, I foolishly think the wind will keep the remaining green heads away. Oops. Wrong. I stand on the dike scanning for the avocet. The green heads start chomping. I start swatting. Blood runs down my leg. A huge globule of blood lands on my shoe, looking weird and menacing. I spot what looks kind of avocet-like at the limit of binocular range. Fortunately there's another birder there with a scope AND he's the friendly here-have-a-look kind of birder instead of the what are your birding credentials and why don't you have a scope kind. (I left the gizmo at home because the instruction manual says not to leave it in the car for long periods of time and I did not want to lug it into the cat shelter or Angelina's with me. Hmm, it tells me not to leave it in the car but it doesn't tell me how to adjust the brightness on the monitor. Odd manual, that.) Through his scope I see that, yup, that's an avocet. First one this year.

I run into Randy & Elly as I'm leaving Hellcat. I give them the latest location on the avocet, which they'd looked for earlier and hadn't found. Randy asks if I had any nudies on the beach this year. I tell him I've looked for that guy every plover warden shift since, but haven't seen him. We laugh. Randy & Elly aren't doing the plover warden thing this summer, but we compare notes on the status of the invisi-birds anyway. They head for the last known location of the avocet and I put holistic herbal bug bite lotion on my wounds before continuing the search for interesting birds and/or weeds.

There's some mouse-ear hawkweed in the parking lot, which I hadn't photographed yet, so I add that to the growing weeds of Parker River NWR photo catalog. All the birds at Stage Island are too far away for binoculars. The suicidal mourning dove pair is nowhere to be found. And, incredibly, there are no goldfinches or cedar waxwings at Sandy Point and environs. So I head back to photograph that stunning display of Evening Primrose.

The sky is finally beginning to lighten up a little. The rain stopped two hours ago. The Evening Primrose is all closed up! It's not nearly so stunning a photo op with just pale green leaves/stalks and no blossoms. Oh well. I photograph a pink week and a yellow weed that I don't know the name of and head home. At home, nothing in the book looks quite like these particular weeds. But, hey look, the sun came out! The sun came out! The sky is blue! Blue I tell you!