Baby birds and old dogs.

The five baby birds in the nest above the back porch have grown so big that they are practically sitting on top of each other. I go up and down the back steps countless times during every day, and each time, five little heads peek up and over that nest, looking down at me. I talk to the baby birds as I pass the nest, telling them their mama is off getting bugs for them and will be back soon.

When the baby birds were smaller, they would peek over the nest rim, look down at me, and then put their heads back into the nest. They're too big to do that now... when their little heads peek over that nest, there isn't enough room for all five of them to get back down snug in the safety of the nest.

This evening after dinner, one of the baby birds was perched right on the edge of the nest. He has clearly proclaimed himself the leader of the nest, and I'm guessing he'll be out and flying around the yard tomorrow, followed soon by the other four.

Baby birds. We're on the second or third generation now, in a little over our first year in this house. A few more years, between all the bird houses here and all the comfy places for the Barn Swallows to build their nests, and we can declare our property a bird sanctuary.


Old dogs. Oh my. I think both my husband and I are in denial about that. Our dog Gracie is 14 years old. We had to take her to the vet today because she has two growths above her rear right leg. One growth is about pea-sized; the other is the size of a golf ball. Not good. The vet says cancer, especially the larger one. It should come off. They can send it to the large veterinary clinic in College Station, connected to Texas A&M, and the doctors there can let us know what type of cancer it is.

Does that really matter? And if they're going to remove the growth, what difference does it make what type of cancer it is, especially since they can't guarantee that other growths aren't already forming inside of her. We weren't too pleased with this particular vet's office in the first place. They were "under construction" on the inside, with yellow tape strung along most of the outside of the building. Major renovations, thirty years overdue, they told us. It was so noisy and confusing in that office that I wanted to ask them why they weren't handing out hard-hats. Gracie was very uncomfortable there, but I can't say that it was due to the construction or simply due to the fact that she was in a vet's office. And all dogs know right where they are, as soon as you open that front door. Or, in this case, a side delivery door, because the front door was under construction.

We're going to another vet tomorrow, for a second opinion. I have a feeling that he will tell us the same thing. This vet today, I'm sure, has seen enough cancerous growths on animals to know one when he sees one. And the fact that Gracie is an older dog was pointed out to us in a very subtle way--- "Have y'all noticed that she has cataracts in both of her eyes?" Well, of course we have.... we look at her every day and see those cloudy eyes. And we also know she doesn't hear as well as she used to, nor walk as fast, and she can't manage very many steps, and she sleeps like a brick these days. Translation: we know she's old. And do we really want her to go through an operation at her age, which might give her six more months or so before the cancer inside of her erupts into another red and angry-looking growth?

As I said, we're both in denial. My husband gave Gracie some spaghetti after dinner tonight, then a little bit of ice cream. Are all the don't-feed-the-dog-people-food rules going out the window now? If what Gracie is facing are cancerous growths, should those silly rules still apply?

Denial. Right about now, my cousin R would be saying "Denial is a river in Egypt."


And the stray cat...... he came back last night, to eat the dry cat food I left on the back porch for him. I didn't go out there to pet him, but my husband did. My hand is still a tiny bit swollen from the bite of that cat, so I didn't want to take any more chances. He's very scared out there, but he seemed to do well with my husband. Still, that cat doesn't come around during the day. He probably knows that we're going to put him into a cat-crate and bring him to the shelter. We don't want (or need) another cat in this house. And I am standing firm on that rule, I can tell you that.