Obviously, one can get carried away in one of these, not even needing four white horses or coachmen. Over the last few days, I have been puzzling over my pumpkin patch. Really. I remember thinking (I know, dangerous) that I had one for each grandchild, but would have to make do with the single white pumpkin to be my porch decor for this Hallow'een. Yesterday when I brought in the Butternut squash, I stood and pondered the sprawling Cinderella Pumpkin vines. 1. 2. 3. 4. Hmmm. 5. #5 has been hiding in the tall grass. I was sure there were 7. Oh well.
This afternoon I went out to move the wheelbarrow full of squash. I gasped. It was not full! Again, I stood and just looked. Then my eye went out into the pumpkins. 4. There were 4. There were dents in the mulch, dents in the soil, and even a stem remained where there once were my Beauties.
Now, I consider myself to be generous. But I am not feeling generous. I carry each of the Cinderellas into the back yard, and then bring them inside, one by one. They are too heavy to carry multiples. While I was inside Emerson shredded one of the stems. He just had to, I guess. I also drove the wheelbarrow full of Butternuts into the back yard, and in a bit I will stash them into the pantry.
Do coyotes eat pumpkins? Last night on the way home, a small fox trotted down the road in front of me. It could not possibly eat one of these 10 pounders, could it? On FB a video went around of big cats playing with their pumpkins donated to their zoo by stores after the Halloween sales. The personnel threw a pumpkin into the pool and the Siberian Tiger leaped in after it, retrieving just like Emerson. An enormous black Jaguar pounced on its bright orange pumpkin and ripped into it. Do you suppose the mountain lions and bobcats have discovered my pumpkin patch?
Two nights in a row last week, Emerson went ballistic in the middle of the night. Jesus H Christ, I nearly perished from adrenalin and the deafening racket. He was inconsolable, did not respond to my yelling at him, so there was just a lot of din. Of course, I am afraid of the dark, so I just stayed in my bed. Wayne mumbles, "What?" and rolls over asleep, instantly. IF there is a prowler or intruder, they get the whole outdoors, as far as I am concerned. There was strange, new pee on the tire on my car, and all over the garbage can in the morning.
Unfortunately his barking disturbed others. There were complaints. I called my Miracle Dog Trainer for advice. He has recommended that I purchase a bark collar, which I am ordering online. Then I will do a training session on how to use the damn thing. "Then what?" I asked him. "What if there really IS an intruder, and he (Emerson, that is) doesn't bark?" "Don't worry," he says, "You have Luna, she would never let anyone hurt you." The whole point of the barking collar (I know, I know.) is so that Emerson will stop barking when I tell him to do so.
Do coyotes pee on garbage cans? I suppose so.
Yes. I keep trying to pin this all on the coyotes. They are the Tricksters, after all. But, over the last few nights the coyotes have awakened me. Not Emerson. He doesn't even stir.
Yesterday on NPR I heard about a new battery of statistics concerning hunger. There is an unconscionable amount of people who are going hungry across the globe. Starving. Children, elders, mothers, are going hungry. Of course, we may think this is going on, or even know it is... somewhere else. Somewhere far, far away from The Wine Country.
No. People live down on the river bar in the bushes. Our little town is at the end of the bus line. Homeless veterans ride the bus up from S.F., set up camps at the edge of the river. They look hungry, gaunt, ragged. They don't like dogs, as I have startled them on my walk with Luna (Before Emerson) and seen them race across the river to get away from us. Dammit. There are hungry people right here.
So: Maybe somebody is eating my pumpkins and squash. I hope so. Emerson is still a pup, and is still learning his Life Lessons. I'm learning mine, too.
Love and Hugs.