CRITTERS

The dogs were puzzled at this early rising, but they didn't object to going outside before their usual "piddle trot" time, especially when it included having their morning Marrow Bone treat. Expecting nothing more than branches full of hungry birds feasting on the "mystery trees' " berries, I was really surprised to find my neighbor hard at work with a loud machine. What was he doing now? Yesterday he cut down two or three large trees and dragged them, still wearing their yellow leaves, across to the spot where his property joins ours. He was not available to ask why these trees had to go. Were they blocking his gutters? His driveway? A sidewalk? Friday he was out with his dog Lucy, and when she answered my call by bounding over to play with Skittles and Patches, my neighbor came over also. He said that he had "a lot to do to get ready for winter". He also expected this to be a very hard winter based on the fact that he observed "squirrels bulking up". I hope he's wrong about that because I really don't want to shovel snow from my wheelchair and the squirrels are already big enough to bring down the big limbs of our huge oak. Just kidding. Nature has brought down the dead side of the tree without their help.

But this morning's walk, as usual, included intense sniffing around the evergreen tree where rabbits have been found and around the wood pile where Chippy has brazenly made appearances. No critters were located in either place. After basic outside business, we went back inside. I had made a small pot of fresh coffee, and I picked out a muffin to eat with it. After we voted last Tuesday, we went shopping and I picked out six muffins to have for breakfast while Wayne was away. One was chocolate (which dogs should NEVER EAT), but the rest were of varied flavors like bran, blueberry, and butter rum. Today I sat down at the kitchen table with my precious coffee and my breakfast. I was quickly joined by Patches and Skittles, staring intently up at me. Although their food bowls had been filled, the site of "Mommy eating something interesting" drew their complete attention. The muffin had a crust on top that I began breaking off. As I did this, Skittles began to whine. The volume of this whine increased as I put a piece into my mouth. Patches was ready to jump into my lap, and I couldn't look at or listen to them begging like that, so I gave in and gave out a piece of the crust to each. Instant gratification! Then the staring began again. Was that it? One measly bite? I felt so greedy and selfish that I broke off two more pieces of the crust. It was practically inhaled!

The day was still young so I decided to finish the vacuuming that I had started last night. This is a difficult job for me to do from my wheelchair; the cord gets tangled in the wheels; reaching up to direct the machine to where the dirt is demands constant use of my arm at an unnatural angle; the thing is heavy and gets heavier as it fills up; and moving the furniture is cumbersome. Yet the job has to be done, so I finish the last bit of muffin, wash it down with my coffee, and get to work. I vacuumed our bedroom last night, so today meant the living and dining rooms plus the TV area. That doesn't sound like much, but by the time I pick up all the pet toys, the cat dishes, and my husband's sneakers I am ready to fold. I try to keep one ear to a phone to get my husband's call that he is leaving Florida, but none comes. Not to worry though, schedules can change. Trying to maneuver around the dining room table is impossible. First, the table is much too big for the room (it was my late mother's). It has six big, clunky chairs around it that must be lifted and moved. There is a pair of armed chairs that go with it down in the cellar. The table isn't big enough to accommodate more chairs. Why my mother got it I will never know. Perhaps she planned on giving lavish dinners for royalty?

I did the best I could to vacuum what I could reach, and then moved to the living room. The foyer was full of dust and cat fur along with scattered litter. The last stop was the TV room, and at that point the vacuum began to drop dust balls. This generally meant that it was full and needed emptying. Because it was a "bagless" model, someone had to take the holding section out and dump it into a trash can. I had seen my husband do this several times, and the directions were in my file cabinet somewhere, but for now I opted to simply leave it in the foyer and find another vacuum to finish the job. The one I chose was the little black one that rides on the floor. With its new bag installed last week it was hungry and ready to suck up everything. It made short work of the TV area and I could almost look around without cringing.