These three boys have done really well adapting to their new home in New Hampshire. Tito has been to the vet so we can get his insulin prescription refilled and got his rabies shot, which the other two will need as well before we leave for Buenos Aires (more on that later). Everyone has settled in quite nicely, just in time for today’s move to Maine for the next month and a half (they don’t know yet).
The past two months have been spent enjoying nature from within the screened doors at all sides of the house. It’s vastly more satisfying than what our row house in Soulard offered, which was primarily drunk people, squirrels, sparrows, grackles, robins, cardinals, juncos and the occasional hummingbird, viewed from a distance at the one window over the kitchen counter where they weren’t supposed to be, or from the bathroom window with little access except in perfect weather when it could stay open, or from the porch door, which primarily gave a view of the brick wall next door, or from one of the living room windows overlooking the street. There was a plum tree out those windows, which did draw birds to build nests in it so their babies could eat plums and they could all have target practice pooping all over our cars, but there wasn’t a lot of animal action to feed their hunting instincts.
The locals are not at all in love with the groundhogs, who are eating all their flowers, but we happen to be big fans, and have named the big one (above) Phil, for Punxsutawny Phil, and the smaller one Phyllis. One night we woke up to the unmistakable yet initially unidentifiable smell of very fresh, very close, very intense skunk spray. Those who know it will immediately recognize the slightly electrical or chemical stench that lingers long and strong. Whether it was the skunk or whatever it sprayed (the groundhogs?), it was under the house and made the screened in porch and the deck uninhabitable for weeks. We didn’t see the groundhogs for three weeks, and it occurred to us later that they weren’t hiding out under the house in embarrassment, they must have fled because it stunk so bad!
The menagerie on display here features some new and fresh creatures in addition to their previous limited list and everything is closeup and personal. The chipmunks and squirrels come right up to the doors to eat the seeds that the birds have knocked out of the feeder. There are finches, thrushes, tanagers, wrens, and multiple other yet-unidentified birds, along with woodpeckers, wild turkeys, groundhogs and rabbits (no black bears yet, but others have had sightings). The show is amazing and the cats are glued to their various gazing spots. Ha ha, they’re all still spending most of their time just sleeping, but when they are awake, there is so much more to look at, and we’re all enjoying it immensely.
When we return from Maine at the start of October, we’ll be prepping in earnest for the trip south. We (the humans) can each check five bags at 50 pounds apiece. Black plastic bags are really tempting when you consider a suitcase may weigh near twenty pounds empty. The cats will all need health certificates from the USDA, and thankfully the new vet we found nearby is USDA certified, so the process should be smooth and fairly straight forward. They all need to be inspected and deemed healthy for travel, vaccinated for rabies at least 30 days before travel, de-wormed within 10 days of travel and the vet has to send off the info to the nearest USDA office in New York so we can either drive to get the certificates or (we hope) have them mailed to us before we travel. Well, maybe only two of them, since each cat needs a human to take them as carry on. Who gets left behind? Is someone going to fly with us–and get us another four checked bags to bring more stuff? We’re leaving the difficult questions for the universe to answer, so help us manifest simple, stress-free solutions; let’s all think easy peasy.
I’m sure we’ll have everything else we need to do finished by then so we’ll have plenty of time to focus on the cats.
