The goldfish tank mystery

But first, here we are, February! We had rain last year in February. We'll see how this goes.

We are expecting a polar vortex, with really cold temperatures. These are, of course, in Celsius.

To give some more information: 

Divers & Sundry asked, and no, there is no way to find the antlers now. I think they must be under a foot of snow, at least. Walking in the snow, even with snowshoes, is really difficult. I think they aren't on our property, either!

DrumMajor said, One deer looks like it has some tumors on it's back "knees." 

The deer have glands at the joints, and during mating season, especially, the fur puffs up. Here is an example of the puffed out tarsal gland. The females have their own glands, letting the bucks know when they are in the mood for love! This from the Whitetail Savvy book!  The puffy fur allows more scent to get into the air.

The cats have always loved fishtanks. There is warmth coming out of the light hood. When a feline is stuck indoors, and there is nothing to do in winter, it is good fun! Daisy was a wee cat, but Cinnamon – I am afraid he'll bust the topper. Oliver liked the smaller aquarium. 

 

You can see Hooper on top of the tank, while Isabelle makes us sandwiches. He didn't fish. He just sat. This was February, 2019.

Back to the present.

I'm having trouble with Cinnamon and the goldfish tank. Here in 2021:  He is trouble!. We've gone back to using the spray bottle of water to encourage him to jump down. I can hear him messing around with the styrofoam from the other room. 

I cleaned the tank, as I do at the end of the month. I stuck some styrofoam in the opening up top last year, or the year before. It worked then. He began to pull it out with his claws this week. I covered it up with a thick knapkin. Next day, stuck a long ruler across all this. In this photo, you can see the piece of heavy cardboard I put on the back of the tank on top of the styrofoam. 

When our grandies were here in the fall, Isabelle sketched and named them. Clownfish and Tigerfish aren't there anymore.

Sadly, yes, some fish are missing. I don't know if they died, or if Cinnamon is to blame. Nutmeg seldom sits here. Cinnamon isn't the fierce hunter that she is. Cinnamon ran when the vole chased him. He just likes the motion. I don't know. 

The little ones that bred with the alewives. I remember one with black fins. Gone! 

I've had baby goldfish, but they don't seem to thrive in the tank.

I am going to have to try and find more fishies this year. Due to supply chain issues and COVID restraints, they've been scarce in stores. Percy came from Brockville in 2018, from Ritchie's. Perhaps will have to do some research in spring. 

Those were the days! 

We have an orphaned deer!

One of my faithful readers and commenters, William Kendall , asked what I thought the deer and ducks thought of one another. (They were both on the trailcam video.) They don't seem to come into contact much, except when our Bambi stands in the water and eats the cat tails. Hard to say!

They are wary of the cats, however. Buster was bad for drawing them, but they would follow us on our forest walkies. They are curious about teeny (7 lb.) Daisy!


Buster liked to pop up from behind the deer feeder, truly looking for Dratted Red Squirrel, not deer. They watched Felix and Oliver, too!


Recently, here is our little yearling, a female, I think, orphaned this winter. She is very careful of the cats, giving Daisy a hard stomp in warning. Daisy ignored the deer! She has enough instinct to be safe, and to eat. The females stick together, in sibling and family groups. The males go on their way. Most have dispersed to their wider summer yards, the males and females go different ways, and spread out to maximize the food sources.

We've been trying to think of a name for said deer. Orphan Annie would be fun, but we already have Anniebelle, as we affectionately call her! Any thoughts, faithful, creative readers?

Sady cat R.I.P. (2005 - 2015)

Hubby and Sady

Well, this was the the day on Tuesday.  She was increasingly weaker, I could feel her back bones through her gaunt body. She and I had a nice visit the day before, by the warm fire, while her daddy was sent to bed with a happy pill. Her eyes were just not right.  She wasn't the cat who would let me tim her toe nails, not for months. No longer the cat who would play out on the lake ice, with Oliver, roll on the warm cement step at the end of the dock in the sunshine. We had a good chat, and I could tell she was having a bad time. She loved the cottage, when we lived there, chasing a Pine marten up into a tree.

The vets are amazing and truly need to talk to people doctors about end-of-life care. Not obviously in pain, she is unable to take in sustenance, and at this stage of dying many of my hospice clients cannot digest, either. 'Do you think it's time to put her down?' the vet asked JB on the phone. So civilized this end-of-life care.  They have been so good with him, and with her.

Edith Piaf: "Non, je ne regrette rien."

I have collected all the photos I could find for JB.

Hubby wrote about her...

There was a chance to put her on something that might have given her a few more months but she was just spending the day under my dresser, coming downstairs to sit with me at night. She was too weak to handle the other cats in play, and was becoming frightened to walk down the hall. She couldn't eat, she would be in the kitchen waiting for me in the morning, and meowing to be fed, but no matter what I put in front of her, she couldn't eat it. 

 It was no life for the strong, brave cat, that has been my constant companion for the last ten years. The only thing that she loved was me, not other cats, nor people (though she tolerated Jenn and the grandchildren). She followed me everywhere, even onto the frozen lake at Bala. I was seldom in the house with out her beside me. Her love for me, was more like a dog, fierce and unconditional. So I am very sad, and very relieved that her suffering is over. 

I don't want to go by inches when my time comes, and I didn't want her to either. I didn't want her to outlive me, as she would have been lost with out me, but she could have waited a while longer.

She was a fierce cat, and treed a fisher on Oct. 31st, 2007.

Sady at the vet in January.

Looked left and right!

She gives Daisy a growl!

She loved the lake - now she prefers indoors

Sady just pretended to go after it.
They have such similar colouring!

Sadie mushes a catnip ball

The late Oliver, and sister, Sadie, 2009

Sadie & Buster ,
on the table near the tree house.

Sady and the late Mitzi