Tuesday, March 14, 2006
As I write this, a female cardinal is banging her head against one of my living room windows. I wake up to the sound every morning. I've stopped worrying about her head; my concern now is for my window. I tried putting a life-size photo of my dog Wolfy's face in the window. That stopped her for a couple of days, but now she's back at it. She's chasing away her reflection. She thinks it's another female out to seduce her male. As Dr. Phil often says, there's no reality--only perception.
Two weeks ago I bought a one-pound package of strawberries. I brought it home, and it promptly disappeared. I was certain I had put it on the kitchen counter, but it was nowhere to be seen. I searched the fridge (not an easy task) and everywhere else I could think of. No strawberries. After a while I forgot about them. I think I decided they must have ended up in the deepest recesses of the fridge, where I'd find them one day.
Well, I found them today--under the piano. Believe me, I didn't put them there. But I know who did. The floor under the piano is where Wolfy hangs out, and where he has been known to bring stinky tidbits stolen from the garbage. But strawberries? Stolen from the kitchen counter? Well, I do know he's snatched things from the counter before. But usually reasonable things. Like raw chicken. Or cheese. I know Wolfy isn't pregnant, but I guess that day he had a craving for strawberries.
By the time I found them, they were covered with mold and had leaked rotten strawberry juice all over the wood floor. It actually removed an area of the wood finish. Fortunately, not too many people peer under the piano. I had a delightful time cleaning it all up.
Do you suppose this is my fault for feeding Wolfy popcorn and walnuts? (He eats them separately, of course.)