A Boy and his Beardie

We are having so much fun with Queequeg.

Greetings.

Beardie Calisthenics....

Tennis, anyone?

Why, I don't mind if I do.

Namaste




Surrender.

 

Samson: Back As A Tree Frog?

Luckily, our door handle / house is still intact.

Geneology

We are helping Queequeg understand his fine lineage.

"Silent Bob" Isn't

So magnificent.  So loud.

My friend and boss, Laura Hamilton from The Portable Baby (theportablebaby.com), gave our family three chicks early this summer.  Her son's kindergarten class had hatched them and had enjoyed watching them grow until the chicks began to outgrow their little brooder.  Meanwhile, our flock had dwindled to 2 hens, so adopting  three more sounded perfect.  

I am sad to report that things did not go ideally for these three.  Chick number one, Zelda, got nabbed by a raccoon.  :-(  Chick number two, Ellie, suffered a crop malfunction and perished.  :-(  Chick number three, Hot Chick, turned out to be Not A Hen.  :-\  So much for upping the egg production around here.

As a chick grows and feathers out, there comes a day when you realize that your hen looks really tall for her age...and that the tail feathers are beginning to look especially jaunty....

And then you realize the dreadful truth: that there bird is A ROOSTER.  Darnit. I actually like roosters. I like this rooster.  But, anyone who has lived with them knows they can be difficult to live with.  For hubs, they're  intolerable.  Luckily, we have some friends not too far away that don't mind taking in roosters.  So we may soon be making the drive up the hill.

So soft.

 Once I realized we had a rooster, but before he had found his voice, I entertained the fantasy that he would be soft-spoken.  I knew it was just a matter of time, but I nevertheless gave him the moniker "Silent Bob," so we could all enjoy the irony.

He is a mighty fine rooster, and thus far not too ornery.  The kids adore him.  Tessa wants him to be the progenitor of our next chicks.  And look at that magnificent comb!  Great texture, Bob.

Will he stay or will he go?

T.B.D......

So long . .  . .

ORA Welcomes Queequeg!

Hiya!

This is Queequeg, a Bearded Dragon who will be staying with us while his main girl Kathleen visits India.  Isn't he adorable?

We've taken care of Queequeg occasionally when his people have gone out of town, and we have always been  charmed by how personable and expressive these creatures are.

Here are some of this morning's moments.

The ritual begins:  Bow to me, human.

I will permit you to hand feed me.

A little closer...yes....I'm ready.

Pardon my sticky tongue, just for a moment.

Mmmm!  Good legs on that one.

Sunning aids digestion.

Namaste

May your day be filled with light and love.

Tiny Perfection

Western Fence Lizards are really cute.  In late summer, there are lots of tiny ones running around. 

This one's pretty cute, tho' we have seen tinier....

Noodling Around

Well, I have to say that back-to-school activity hampers our day to day enjoyment of The Attraction.   Making a mental note of this. 

Meanwhile, on the love seat . . . . (These were taken a few weeks ago, shortly before Wellie disappeared).

Sadie and Tessa reenact "Lady and the Tramp."

This second picture isn't as perfect, but I am posting it because it is one of the last pictures I have of the inimitable Wellie. Wherever there was action, she would be right there. We tried to get photos of Wellie and Sadie sharing a noodle, but Wellie kept hopping off with her side of the noodle.  Anyway, we laughed a lot trying.

Wellie directs the scene from on top of Tessa's laptop (R).

The Blog Must Go On

Still feeling sad about the absence of Wellie.  

But life goes on, and the idea for the blog was conceived before Welllie plunged out of her nest and into our lives.  So, I'm going to put up a few pictures that not only reflect life day-to-day on Maniac Mountain, but also, that simply make me happy.

Hug a hen.  They're very soft - and sometimes sweet - like Holly, our Prairie Rock Hen.

You Nibble My Shoulder, I'll Nibble Yours

Mutual Grooming:  I love when they do this.

Anti-climactic

After two reconnaissance missions, Chigiy and I feel pretty sure that Wellie is not currently residing at the home of Mystery Woman from San Jose.

We walked around her place in daylight while she was not at home, and could hear her pet birds vocalizing.  We vocalized.  In response, we heard parakeets and a cockatiel.  I do not doubt that if Wellie had been there, she would have made her presence known. 

So, it's good news and bad news, I guess.  Mostly bad.

I am relieved that this person whom I suspected did not take the bird (or if she did, the bird has since either escaped or been released).  Anyway, Wellie's non-kidnapping restores an iota of my already marginal faith in humanity, and offers some closure.  Given the absolute, complete disappearance of the bird, I think I have to assume the worst, that Wellie is no more.

I didn't want to have an awkward encounter with a person who had stolen a sort-of pet from the wild, and yet, I did want to believe my birdy was still alive out there somewhere.  I don't think my suspicions were entirely unfounded, but I have been aware, all along, that a certain amount of denial was in effect.  I know, I am a jackass.  Ha.  I said it first.

In Bird Brains: The Intelligence of Crows, Ravens, Magpies, and Jays by Candace Savage, I read the following (actually written about magpies, but I think very analagous), and it is one of those nuggets of information that both saddens and comforts:

"In one study, more than a fifth of magpie fledglings fell prey to owls, hawks, and falcons within two weeks of leaving the nest."  

Am I In Denial, or Did That Person Seem a Little Strange?

I've posted bits and pieces of this story here and there on FaceBook, but here is a fuller version of one of my theories about Wellie's disappearance.

Many have suggested that she might have gone off with a mate.  While I don't know exactly when jays choose a mate, my intuition and observation tell me it isn't now.  She is a juvenile; only about 3 months old. Heck, she ain't even all blue yet.  Hence, I don't think she's in the market for Mr. Right.  Spring people, next spring. 

Meanwhile, back at the ranch....

On Monday afternoon this week, as I was taking the dog out for a walk, Sadie ran off to the barn barking at an unfamiliar woman who was standing in the road.  I was glad she didn't really seem phased by Sadie's barking.  As I approached her to retrieve the dog and say hello,  the woman turned and said, in an awed voice, "LOOK at this BIRD!"  And, of course, there was Wellie, perched on her hand, being engaging and curious and wonderful in her quintessential scrub jay way.

We chatted for a bit and I told her the story of having found Wellie and fledged her, and how she now lives in the wild but visits us all regularly.  This woman was really smitten, exclaiming more than once how much she loved the bird, wanted the bird.

A lot of people get a big kick out of having a wild bird land on them and play with them. Wellie is cute and funny and intensely interested in everything, much like a kitten. With wings. It is a pretty magical experience.

This woman was the first person I walked away from feeling a twinge of worry.  I left her there with Wellie, looking back over my shoulder a couple times wondering if I should go back, but telling myself, "no, she wouldn't do that...."

Tuesday, we saw Wellie in all her regularly scheduled activities.

Wednesday, there was not a single trace of the bird.  Except later that afternoon, this same woman shows up in my driveway asking about the bird.  Hmmmm.  She had no business up here.  She told me she had tried to find a nearby winery unsuccessfully, and had given up and come here.  She again said that if we didn't want the bird, she would love to have her.  She told me she has birds at her house: a cockatiel and two parakeets.
She seemed pleasant enough, and at the same time, kind of odd. I was again suspicious, but couldn't quite bring myself to ask her if she had taken the bird.  But I did tell her that we hadn't seen the bird all day and that we were worried.

We have walked all around the property in search of a telltale burst of blue feathers or a little dead bird.  Neither has been found.

Today, I spoke to my sculptor neighbor.  The woman had visited his studio on Monday, so I thought maybe he knew her.  He told me that she was also a stranger to him, and moreover, he had become uncomfortable in her presence after 5 minutes. His 3 assistants all agreed that she seemed strange.  Initially, her story was that she had run out of gas, or her vehicle was otherwise incapacitated.  Or something.  Hmmm again.  Anyway, my sculptor neighbor said she "asked to buy every thing in the studio, one thing after another," but actually bought nothing.  Not that there is really anything "for sale" in his studio; while it is full of fascinating objets, it's a busy workshop readying for a show a month away.

Anyway, in the grip of that unsatisfactory acquisitive episode, Mystery Woman then apparently walked outside and stole my baby corvid.  (Objection! Conjecture!) 

Luckily, she had left her address and e-mail address at the studio.

Given the outright total disappearance of the bird, I believe she has either been killed by a predator, or is now living with this woman in San Jose.

What would you do???

Worry

We haven't seen Wellie all day.  I am trying not to worry. Besides missing her like crazy, well, sheesh, she's kind of vulnerable, being both wild and habituated to human company.

I wish I could simply chalk her absence up to growing up and moving on, and while that is certainly possible, such a clean break would surprise me.  She has been so regular with her routine, and very bossy monitoring our comings and goings (on walkies, to the barn, etc). She swoops in and greets almost every visitor to the house (and barn), checking out their vehicle, jewelery, and person.  We joked that she was becoming our guard bird, because she would occasionally screech & dive-bomb people jogging by our driveway.  Until she recognized them, anyway.  Seriously.

And then, today, we saw not a trace of her all day.

Usually, I watch her fly in toward the house from either of a couple different trees. When she would fly in from tree #1, she would very predictably get dive-bombed by an adult jay.  Soooo, my theories include, but are not limited to: 

a) she's been run off by a dominant jay, 
b) she's been captured by or is happily mooching from a smitten neighbor, 
c) she's been nabbed by a predator, 
or vaguely possibly, 
d) she's molting, and simply can't be seen in public. 

I miss her so much.  

Spooky

For the entirety of last summer, we enjoyed the company of "Guardian Frog" (photo pending, I have to search the archives).  He was a little tree frog who lived in a shoe on an upper shelf next to the light in the carport.  His presence was always delightful and cheering.  Frogs are wicked cute.

This summer's tiny pooka is more ambiguous.  I have been somewhat delighted yet vaguely appalled by the continuing presence of a banana slug that appears every single morning at our front door (which happens to be a sliding glass door).  I find it fascinating that this creature keeps to a routine that is as (or more) regular than our own.  (I guess slugs don't get weekends?) 

The other day, I showed this hanger-on to my friend Chigiy.  Who (of course), immediately suggested I incorporate it into the Roadside Attraction.  Well of course!  In case you don't know, Ariolimax columbianus,  a.k.a. The Pacific Banana Slug, is the second-largest species of terrestrial slug in the world.  (Woo-hoo!  Now I'm beginning to feel proud).  And, they are hermaphroditic.  (See, I told you there was ambiguity).

Dutifully, I went to get my camera.  In no hurry. Turned out the camera card was still in the computer, blah blah blah.  When I finally got it all together and wandered back to the front door a few minutes later, the banana slug was NOWHERE TO BE FOUND.  What?  It must be around here somewhere.  It's a slug, right?  It couldn't have gone far.... 

I could not, did not find it.

Spooky!  Are they shape-shifters?  Seriously, how fast can one slug move?

Today, of course, Banana Slug was back in position in its regular spot. But now it has the perfect name.  We're calling it SPOOKY.

The sexy hermaphroditic banana slug "Spooky" graces the threshold of Our Roadside Attraction.

A Stern Talking-To

Yesterday, Gerald came face to face with the little thief who snagged his hearing aid.

He had some choice words for her.

She appeared to listen carefully....

Baby Blues

Wellie's been looking scruffy lately.  I've been trying to document her dishevelment, but it's proven kind of hard to capture photographically.  She's always on a tight schedule these days, and doesn't tend to linger around the house like she used to.  But besides that, the pictures just haven't really shown the scruffiness I see In Real Life.  Anyway, I had a hunch she was beginning to molt, but couldn't prove it.  Until today.

Herein, I present: my baby molting. 

Molt:  Exhibit A -- The first appearance of blue on her head.  Oh, and look at those gorgeous bird feet.  I never get over the fabulousness of bird feet.

Molt:  Exhibit B -- Eventually her whole head will be blue.

And Now For Something Completely Different

The bird is just the tip of the iceberg here at the Roadside Attraction.  But while beetles have a pretty good Wow Factor, they don't do any cute tricks. Unless you think hissing is cute.

Tessa met this critter in the bathroom one fine evening.

Hardwood Stump Borer Beetle.  A bit hissy, but generally mellow otherwise.

Minutes later, she encountered this Junebug, also in the bathroom.

Gather 'round, children.

Mwah.

Thank you for visiting my blog.

Fruitless Searching

Here we are searching for the hearing aid.

Chigiy came to help us that first morning, tiptoeing carefully around under the tree with me, while Wellie helped James up in the tree.

Good thing all these oak leaves are just about the same color as a hearing aid.

The Proverbial Haystack.  Extra Credit:  Find the bird in the photo.  Double Extra Credit plus reward:  Find the missing hearing aid.

Don't climb alone, people.

Unbridled Enthusiasm

Tessa and I were cleaning tack.  Then Quality Control arrived.

What do you mean  I missed a spot?

The Princess is Not Afraid of A Little Hard Work

The other day certain members of Our Roadside Attraction had a profound yearning for S'mores.

Biggsy set everyone to work creating a fire circle.

Wellie helped.

"Ask, and ye shall be Put To Work."

Find the Avian Assistant, Part I

Find the Avian Assistant, Part II

Shovel Check

Break Supervisor

Is this my chair?

This IS my chair.

Developing Young Minds

Like any normal fledgling, Wellie began to make test flights, which landed her on the floor, at first. There, she'd hop hop hop busily around, examining everything she could get her beak on.  She soon was able to hop/fly up onto a chair or sofa.  Gradually her test flights became more coordinated and better directed, and she would choose where she wanted to land.

We are delighted (to varying degrees) when she comes to see what each of us is up to.  Thus, our Scrub Jay Enrichment Program is underway.

Read to your young bird daily.

Teach basic lettering, erasing, and nibbling.

Crayons are a good way to teach colors.  Trick question: which one is orange, Wellie?

 

Oh my goodness, she's right.

Baby Pictures

There isn't any news about the stolen hearing aid.  And since this blog is thus far entirely devoid of imagery,  I thought I would take some time to post a few pictures from early July when Wellie was just a fledgling.

Baby bird reflex:  Feed me!

Down the hatch.  Mmm, starter crumble.

We fed her often.

So there are many photos of her eating.

Full and sleepy, snuggling down for a nap.