The Chuckster

He's been here longer than we have, we thinks.

It’s been a while since I wrote about our backyard residents. They’ve been around, I’ve been busy.

Hecate, last year’s racoon mother, is showing up once again, daily. We know she has kits, she’s not deigned to share them with us yet. No pics yet.

Her three surviving kits from last year, Sheldon, Veronica and Porgy, come by nightly and wait for me. It’s interesting to recognize that racoon memory spans years, like ours, and that they remember me from one season to the next, through their winter nocturnes, and associate me with…goodness? Food, definitely, and easy to get food at that.
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Two Toms a’ Struttin’

"I like big breasts." "Not me, I'm a leg man."

I mentioned that we hadn’t seen Bill, our resident Tom, for a while in It’s a Good Thing.

We figured something wildlife-ish had happened to Bill. The Girls were around – all 21 of them! – and Bill, alas…no Bill for about a week.

Today, as Boo (our rescue Bassador) and I returned from our walk, I saw a herd (I know, the proper term is flock and these were moving like a herd. I’m an author. Live with it) of Turkeys heading into our backyard.

This didn’t surprise me. Our Turkeys have become the guardians of my writing. For reasons beyond my comprehension (but I’m sure I’ll discover because I’m starting a new story, A Raccoon’s Tale, that involves Three Turkeys playing Macbeth’s witches. Again, I’m an author. I’ve learned to live with it), they show up when I’m writing and leave when I’m finished. As I write off and on all day, it gets quite busy.
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