Let It Snow
With the forecast calling for between one and eighty-four inches of snow to start falling later in the day, my wife and I decided to take a ride around the farm to check things out while we had the opportunity. If we did get a foot or more of snow, it would be a few days before we could get back out there. We bundled up against the cold wind, hopped in the side-by-side, and headed out.
We stopped by the beehive to see if there was any activity. Since the temperature was below freezing, we did not expect bees to be flying around, but I was hoping to see some sign that they were doing alright. There was no activity at all so we could only assume they were bundled up tight around their stored-up honey, riding out the cold winter months. Opening the top of the hive at this time of year would most likely kill them so we wait, and hope all is well.
We drove across the dam and up the hill into the timber. When we got into the woods and out of the wind, the weather seemed almost pleasant. It was still cold, but the biting wind was not stinging our faces. We stopped at the first trail camera and checked the pictures taken over the past week. There were a lot of pictures of does, a few bucks, a raccoon and a couple of turkeys. The deer seem to be back to their normal routines of coming and going after the disruption of deer season.
Crossing twin sluices, we broke through the ice in the crossing. It was good to see a few inches of water running into the lake after the long dry summer. We drove up
the hill to Zane’s raccoon bait station. I have a camera on it also so we can see what is eating there. Zane is trying to keep raccoons in the area to train his coon hound. Pictures showed a few raccoons, an opossum, and two dogs eating from the scrap food. From the date and time stamp on the pictures, we could tell, the day my wife and I put out some failed molasses cookies, our terrier, Jag, and Damon’s terrier, Claire, stopped by for cookies. Apparently, the cookies were not too bad because they were all gone.
We drove across the long hayfield toward the South place. When I stopped to open the gate, I could hear chain saws running in the distance. We found Damon and Zane had just finished cutting up a hickory tree. Zane started splitting wood with his maul while I helped Damon load. Zane has strange ideas about entertainment. He likes to split wood by hand. There is a hydraulic log splitter just around the corner in the pasture that I think would make the job much easier, but I guess that is just my opinion.
We followed the log trailer to Damon’s house and helped them unload the wood. We decided we had enough fresh air and exercise for the day. Going back across the farm, we saw a pair of eagles circling overhead, looking for any tasty leftovers and wishing it was still deer season when their hunting is easy as they dined on what we leave after field dressing deer. Coming back down the hill toward the lake, we saw six trumpeter swans on a patch of open water. They watched us as we drove across the dam but did not become overly concerned about our being close to them. The warmth of the garage felt great on our faces that had been chilled by the wind on the trip to the house. We shed a couple of layers of close and cuddled up under a blanket with a hot cup of coffee now ready to let it snow.
Welcome Trupti Mehta, MD, FACOG
Pella Regional Health Center is pleased to welcome board-certified Gynecologist Trupti Mehta, MD to the medical staff beginning January 23, 2025.
Dr. Mehta has 30 years of experience specializing in Gynecology. For most of her career, she practiced in Dubuque, Iowa. She will provide care for females of any age for annual well-woman exams, menstrual issues, STDs, birth control counseling and prescribing, treatment of premenstrual syndrome, menopause, treatment of disease in the reproductive track, endometriosis treatment, urinary incontinence, pelvic pain, uterine fibroids.
Dr. Mehta has a special interest in the evaluation and diagnosis of infertility problems and treatment including injectable as well as intrauterine insemination. She performs pelvic surgeries including minimally invasive robotic surgeries, laparoscopy, abdominal and vaginal techniques.
“My passion is helping women and providing the best possible care to those in need,” said Dr. Mehta. “I believe in exceptional care with
McKitty
Some days are better than others, even for wild animals.
It was just a couple of days after Christmas and I was on my way home from the grocery store in Two Harbors. Our dog, Nova Mae, road along with me. A pickup ahead of us had its flashers on. It was dark outside and hard to tell, but it seemed like he was still in the north bound lane on Highway 61 so I began to slow down. Maybe their engine died and they couldn’t get to the side of the road.
Then, an oncoming vehicle in the south bound lane turned on his emergency lights, a patrol car. I figured he was going to make a U-turn, in front of me, so I stopped well short, giving him plenty of room to do his job. The officer also stopped in the lane instead of pulling off on the shoulder of the road. (This section of Highway 61 has very narrow shoulders.) I turned on my flashers, and turned off the headlights so they weren’t shining in the officer’s eyes. As the patrol car made the U-turn, I could see the side door; it was a Lake County Sheriff’s deputy.
The officer approached the pickup truck, talked to the driver very briefly, and then he returned to his SUV. He reached in his squad car and pulled out a shotgun!
“Wow,” I said to Nova Mae. “I don’t know what that driver did, but this is serious!” As an old radio guy, I wanted to figure out what was going on here and I had a front row seat to watch. The officer, carried his shotgun, walking toward the stalled truck. That’s when I first noticed a deer, down in the road.
The does was sitting upright, looking around vigilantly as if she was just getting ready to bed down for the night.
I quickly surmised, the truck hit the deer, apparently injuring the animal, but not mortally. The officer was going to put the animal down. I hated to see this happen. I felt sorry for the doe.
A couple of different times, I came upon situations where it was necessary to put down an injured animal, and I hated doing it! I would rather take a healthy animal while hunting, then to put down one that is injured, even though I know it is best for the animal. I had empathy for the doe. Here this poor animal was just trying to cross the road, when she gets hit by car, and now this is how it’s all going to end for her?
The officer put on a set of earmuffs to protect his hearing, then he lifted his weapon, drawing a bead on the deer. But just then, the deer stood up, stared at the officer, and then took two steps toward him. This was a dangerous situation as the injured animal could have charged the officer. The officer held his stance as the deer took another step toward him, and then stopped. The man and the beast were in a stare down.
Finally, the deer took a few steps away from the officer, and the officer followed, taking a few steps toward the deer to herd it off the road. The deer was keeping a close eye on the man with the gun. Each time the deer retreated a few steps further into the ditch, the office pursued, keeping watch from the shoulder of the highway while maintaining a safe distance. As the doe walked, she did not appear to have any broken bones, in fact, she didn’t seem injured at all.
The deer eventually left the path of light from the patrol vehicles headlights. The officer was now working in the dark. I turned my headlights back on, positioning my van to light the area so the officer could see the animal.
The deer continued to watch the cop, while cautiously moving away from the scene. The officer let the animal gain distance between them. Finally, the deer sprang up the embankment behind her
and fled the scene. Her white tail swooshing from side to side and she ran away, disappearing into the woods.
The officer waited a few moments to assure the deer had cleared the area, then lowered his shotgun, and walked back toward his vehicle. He secured his weapon in his car, then directed me, and the traffic behind me, to go around his SUV and the stopped truck.
As I drove north on Highway 1, I thought more about the doe. She never appeared to have any broken legs or bones as she walked; in fact, she didn’t seem injured at all. Maybe the truck barely hit her, just knocking her down. Maybe the truck didn’t hit her at all, and she was just resting on the pavement.
Kudos to the deputy. He was both diligent and patient in handling the situation. There was a short rock ledge behind the deer. Had the officer fired his gun and missed the animal, it’s hard to say where his bullet may have ricocheted. Regardless how she got there, or why she was lying down in the road, it was a happy ending for the deer, who got to live to see another day; maybe one day she will help to pull Santa’s sleigh. But the doe wasn’t the only animal to escape what could have been a bad Christmas season.
A few days later I returned to Iowa to work on a house with my brother Danny. One night, I stopped at north Mc Donald’s for a cup of hot tea, and do some writing. While I worked on my laptop computer, a very concerned young lady approached my table. “Excuse me sir, do you happen to drive a white Ford van?” Jumping to conclusions, I immediately assumed she had hit my van with her car.
Oh, the thoughts that ran through my head: Nova Mae was outside in the van waiting for me, was she hurt? How badly was the van damaged? Is it drivable? How was I going to get back to Minnesota? Oh, Lord. I didn’t need this right now! “Yes,
(Just the Other Day cont’d on pg 4)
I do,” I answered.
Before I could ask why, she fired another question. “Do you have a cat in your van?”
“Um…” I hesitated to answer; I had to think for a moment. Our black cat, Edgar Allan frequently travels with us, but on this trip, he remained at home with my wife. “No, I don’t have our cat with me, but I do have a dog in my van. Why do you ask?” She really had me curious.
“Because I heard a cat meowing in your van,” she said. I asked the girl her name, “Sydney,” she answered.
“How Cool,” I said. “I have a daughter named Sydney.” The young lady was not impressed, she was very concerned, so I tried to put her mind at ease. “Sydney, my dog Nova can make a lot of different sounds. Sometimes she moos like a cow, but she never meows.” I laughed a little.
“I’m serious,” Sydney said. “I think a cat crawled up into your motor. I can hear him crying, but I can’t see him.” I got up from my table to investigate; Sydney followed. “I saw a black cat running away from your van,” she said. “I think it was chasing this cat, and he climbed into your engine for protection.” Standing by the van we listened but did not hear anything.
“I don’t think he’s there anymore,” I said. It was cold and windy outside and I was only wearing a short-sleeve T-shirt. I wanted to go back inside where it was warm; plus, my laptop was sitting in there unattended.
“Can you try calling him,” Sydney asked.
Feeling like an idiot, I
called, “Meow. Meow.”
What if a shrink was walking by while I was meowing at my van? I’d surely be taken in a long sleeve jacket for observation. “I don’t think he’s there now,” I said. “Maybe he ran away when you were inside.
“I’m really worried that you’ll start your motor while he’s still up there,” she said. “Maybe he crawled up there to stay warm on your motor.” I was going to go back inside until she pleaded, “Can you please open your hood and at least look for him.” Suddenly, I was feeling moved by this young girl’s concern for a stray cat, as if my own Sydney was asking, ‘Dad, please.’
“Okay,” I agreed, “I’ll look.” I pulled the hood release, lifted the hood, and stared into the dark hole. “There’s not a cat in there,” I reported.
“Can you call him,” Sydney asked.
“Meow, meow,” I said to my cold motor. Sydney indicated I did not sound very sincere, and asked me to try again. Good grief. I changed the pitch of my voice to sound like one cat enticing another to come play. “Meow, meow.” I waited a moment, then prepared to close my hood. Just then, we heard a faint, sheepish reply, ‘meow.’
“I’ll be darned,” I said. “There’s a cat in there, and he sounds pretty young!” I called to him again. “Meow, meow.” Again, he replied.
“Do you have a flashlight,” I asked. Sydney handed me her cellphone with the flashlight on. I looked inside the motor compartment. There on the frame, sat the cutest little black and white tuxedo kitten, looking up at me. I talked to him some more, each time he responded.
“I can see him,” I said. “He’s pretty young.” His blue eyes said, ‘can you save me?’ He was so charming and sweet. “I think I can reach him.”
Holding the light in my left hand, I reached in with my right. Suddenly, this little charmer went into defense mode. He arched his back and hissed at me. Speaking gently, I said “Hello little fella. I’m not going to hurt you. We’ve come to save you.” I slowly reached in a little a little further. The sweet kitten transformed into a fire-breathing, rabid dragon set to attack. Bearing his razor-sharp claws, he batted his paw at me. I withdrew my hand.
“Can’t you reach him,” Sydney asked. I remembered the last time I tried to rescue a stray cat.
My daughter Delaney and I captured four kittens, but the mother cat latched onto me. The back of my hand swelled
to the size of a half grapefruit. “Not without gloves,” I said.
I put on a pair of leather work gloves and then returned to the front of the van, but the kitten was gone. I looked around from the top and could not see him. He continued to reply to our calls, ‘meow.’ I laid on my back and looked up from the ground, but still could not see him. We had now been looking for him for close to thirty minutes. I was already cold, and that few minutes on the cold hard pavement, finished me off. “I’m going inside,” I said. “He’ll come out when he’s ready.”
Sydney followed me inside to get a plain hamburger to use as bait. While she waited, she went to her table of friends to update them on the situation. I returned to my writing and Sydney went outside with the burger.
She broke up pieces of the meat and put them under the passenger door near the front of the van. I kept working, glancing out the window occasionally to check on her. Soon she returned to the dining room. Her cheeks were red from the cold. “He comes down to eat the hamburger, but whenever I reached for him, he jumps back up into the motor.” I suggested we leave him be. “I want to catch him. I know someone who will take him, and love him.” Sydney returned to the cat and the van.
I didn’t see her for a while, so I went back outside. All I could see were a pair our legs protruding from under the driver’s side. “How are you doing,” I asked.
“I’ve been able to touch him a couple of times,” Sydney said. “But my hands are so cold, I can’t close them to bring him out.” I was starting to worry about her getting frost bite, she wasn’t dressed much warmer than me. I told Sydney she needed to come inside and warm up. “I can’t,” she said.” I think I’m stuck.” Great!
I was having visions of calling the fire department to rescue the rescuer. “No, the cat’s not up a tree, it’s in my motor compartment, and the girl is stuck under my van,” I would tell
them. Just then, Sydney wiggled herself free, and we returned to the warm dining room.
Sydney continued with another idea how to lure the kitten from under the van so she could take him to her friend who would give the kitten a home. It was time for a heart-to-heart talk.
“Sydney, I don’t think that kitten is homeless. I’ve seen a black cat several times hanging out in the woods behind this McDonald’s; she’s most likely his mother. Black cats are hard to see in the night, but I assure you, mama isn’t far away, and she’s been watches us the whole time. We need to leave the kitten alone so his mom will come get him and take him home. But she won’t come to him so long as we are out there.”
Sydney looked a little sad. “Are you sure?” I told her, I was sure. “But what if you start your motor and he’s still up there?”
“We know he will talk to us if we call him,” I said. “I will make sure he is not up there before starting the motor. I promise.” Sydney gave me her phone number and asked me to let her know if I caught him. I told her I would let her know how everything turned out.
We said our farewells, and Sydney left with her friends. I returned to my writing, but kept looking toward the van outside, hoping to see mama cat carrying her kitten home.
When I finally left, I opened the hood to look for McKitty, that’s what I named him. I sincerely called for him, “Meow. Meow.” There was no reply. I was sure mama cat took him home even though I never saw her, but it would be difficult to see a black cat in the night.
I thought about the deer incident a few days before, and now McKitty. Both stories turned out to have happy endings. I gave my dog a rub on the head, “It has been a good Christmas, Nova Mae.”
I backed away from my parking space, and then shifted the van into drive. “Merry Christmas to all,” I said. Nova replied, “And to all a good night.”