MaggieMoose: Guard Dog Of A Different Kind

Maggie's pawsability thought for the day:

Nothing is impossible, the word itself says 'I'm possible'!

Audrey Hepburn

  I was busy at home. I heard Maggie make some grumbling noises. Not loud, these noises were low and guttural unlike her typical happy, chappy disposition. She was sitting there staring out the window. Maggie does like to watch her birds at the bird feeder. I asked Maggie what's wrong? Her head turns and looks at me like duh! Over here! I get up out of my chair and look out the window. Gosh darn it! It's a squirrel eyeing our bird feeder! I'm not crazy about having squirrels in the yard. I guess Maggie isn't either. I realized I have in Maggie a 'squirrel guard dog' there to protect her bird feeder. Squirrel, why our yard? After all, there are a million oak trees in our neighborhood and the grounds are littered with acorns a plenty. 

How does Maggie even know I don't like squirrels in the yard? I never told her, nor acted like I don't want squirrels in the yard. I guess somehow she perceives them as intruders. Maybe she read the packaging for the squirrel proof bird feeder. I did strategically hang the feeder in midair so, the squirrels physically couldn't access it. What kills me is I have been trying to get a photo of a 'squirrel siting' since early January. I wrote about these trials & tribulations in MaggieMoose: Temptation At Knotty Oak. Now, I can take a zillion photos because the dang squirrel won't leave! I bang the window. Splitzso-the squirrel runs away. Thanks Maggie for guarding your bird feeder. The birds came back to the feeder. We can see them again through our dirty, winter windows.

I checked the yard again by looking out the window down below on the ground. Tucked away under a plant was the squirrel eating a black sunflower seed. I guess the squirrel can be the clean up crew since he physically can't get a hold of the bird feeder. Plenty for all. Oh, and Maggie, she really is a guard dog. I don't let her friendly face give her away. Anything is pawsable. Thanks Maggie for guarding the post!

Raining Gale Storm Roses

Maggie's pawsability thought for the day:

"A rose must remain with the sun and the rain or its lovely promise won't come true."

Ray Evans

  Maggie and I spent a wild weekend of gale storm wind and rain. One of the biggest storms of late. We hunkered down. It started with the big football game on Friday night. Stanford football played UCLA football for the Pac-12 Championship. Stanford came out victorious through the raindrops to win a spot in the Rose Bowl on New Years Day. It rained roses for Stanford. 

Stanford

On Saturday Wisconsin played Nebraska in their Pac-10 Championship game. Wisconsin came up smelling roses. The Rose Bowl will host our home team Stanford against Wisconsin. Meanwhile, Saturday it rained again. Maggie and I took our morning walk with raincoats on. The powerful wind picked up right before we finished our walk. We spent time in the warm, coziness of our home complete with the glow from the Christmas tree lights. Some folks might play board games, but Maggie spent her time chewing things over. 

On Sunday the storm was at its worst. It was so windy we had to take our new bird feeder down for fear it might go whipping around and do some damage. The winds were so powerful visions of Dorothy in Kansas being swept away to Oz came to mind. Maggie and I were sure our bird friends were holding on tight somewhere in the protection of their nest. We couldn't take our morning walk it was so stormy. For any drivers out there it was white knuckle driving. Fortunately, later in the day the sun came out as if nothing had happened. Even though streets were lined with tree debris, the sky was pure blue without a cloud. In our area, rain means green grass. It's akin to how the corn grows in Iowa-you can see it grow! Sure enough, the grass had sprouted enough for the cattle to come back and graze. The sunshine before the sunset was a beautiful ending of our stormy, gale force rainy and rosey weekend. We hung the bird feeder back up. A minute later our little Junco bird was back cracking the seeds. The promise of celebration was before us all.