Aunt Fanny

When I turn 97, I want to dress up in fancy clothes and have someone do my hair and makeup. I want a reporter and cameraman from a statewide television station to come to my house and sit in my living room and interview me for a feature story on the evening news. Then I want to go outside and climb aboard my horse and be the Grand Marshall of a big parade, as people line the street and shout my name as I pass by.

I want to do these things, just as my 97 year-old Aunt Fanny George did them today.

Fall is in the Air

A little activity in our yard last night.....

I found this perfectly intact skin this morning. Very grateful I wasn't there to witness the event.

Unusual Friends..........

After my father had his stroke in November of 2008, I worried about what would become of his beloved farm cats. Although shy, they were accustomed to being fed each day so they were not feral. The ones he had when he became incapacitated were about 30th generation descendants from his original two cats, which were gifts from a dear friend many years ago.

Several of my "cat" friends told me dad's little cats might have a difficult time fending for themselves among the larger wild animals that inhabit the vast, extremely rural farm area. So, each weekend, I take 45 pounds of food and place it in various elevated bin areas in the barn.

I know that sometimes, this food is shared with raccoons, opossums, squirrels and other assorted animals of the wild, but I don't mind. As long as the cats have enough to eat, it is okay with me if other hungry animals share their bounty. The cats are always excited to see me and run to greet me, talking their cat language non-stop until I can get the bags open and their bins filled.

I have tried to pet them and interact socially with them, but they do not want this. So I have learned not to bother them........I just stay for a few minutes, knowing my place is that of a delivery person only. But they definitely seem to anticipate my arrival the following week.

However, a few weeks ago, I began to notice that they had accepted a new member into their pack. I don't know where he came from or how they worked out their very peaceful co-existence, but on multiple occasions, I have now seen them all eat from the same bin simultaneously.

I find myself thinking if this very odd paring can get along, maybe the rest of us could take a page from their playbook.

Just saying............

Bo on the Mountain

Sometimes, just when I think my beautiful old walker, Bo, is on his very last leg, a wind will blow through the pines and stir the sleeping memories in his soul. Memories of hunting on the mountain and adventures deep in the woods that were shared only with his pack.

And it is on these days that he will beg with his soulful brown eyes, and plead with me in his failing voice to leave the sanctuary of his controlled environment on the enclosed porch and go run one more time.

And even though I know it is not in his best interest and the exertion will put an even greater strain on his weak heart and his bent and frail arthritic bones, I can not deny him this wish. Because to deny him this brief outing would be to deny him his happiest memories. Memories of when he was the biggest strongest dog on the mountain, and my most vigilant protector..........just as I hope I am his these days.