Save Ottumwa Post October 11, 2023

Stray Cats, Pumpkins, and Wild Life

“I need you to be in town by 8:00,” Sydney said. “You don’t have to stay at the house all day, but at least be in town in case the school calls….” “That kid of mine worries too much,” I said, but I did tell her I would stay with the kids while she and John were out of town at a meeting. I drove to Duluth early Tuesday morning.

I had a couple of errands to run, but nothing too significant. Then, I figured I would return to their house to write until it was time to pick up the girls from school. Unfortunately, I sat at the keyboard and drew a blank; there was nothing to write about—writer’s block. The afternoon dragged on until school let out. But then life happened.

Addison sat on the floor, counting her money. “I have $125.00.” It warmed my heart to watch her count money because I worked with her on that a few years ago. Then she asked, “Do you want to go to Animal Allies?” I wondered why she wanted to go to the animal shelter. “I’m getting a tortoiseshell cat. Can we go see her?” I smiled.

Most ten-year-olds wouldn’t know what a tortoiseshell was, let alone how to pronounce the word. I queried, “Does your mom know about this?”

“Mom said I could get her,” Addie told me. “But I have to save enough money for the adoption fee and food.”

I told the girls if we went to the shelter, it would cut into their screen time. (Sydney limits their daily screen time.) Both girls said that was fine, so we went to the shelter.

Addie approached the front desk, “Can we see Jade?” the lady seemed puzzled, so Addison explained. “Jade is the tortoiseshell.”

(Just the Other Day cont’d on pg 3)

The Problem and the Solution

Each year at this time, I feel obligated to warn drivers everywhere of the dangers lurking on or near the roadways. As a Department of Natural Resources spokesman put it so scientifically today, “This is the time of year the deer act just plain wacky.” That pretty well describes it. With the harvesting of crops in full swing, and does coming into heat, the deer are all running around like they do not have good sense. With ever increasing numbers of deer, the chances of them meeting with a car has greatly increased over the past few years. I feel the need to tell people of the dangers of a deer collision as I had a part in causing the problem.

Years ago, there were few deer and very limited hunting seasons. Concerned sportsmen put money into habitat and set hunting limits that would increase the herd size. Money was raised by taxing sporting goods and licenses to hunt. The plan worked very well. It has been said, if you want to ensure the survival of a species, put a hunting season on it. Sportsmen will make sure it survives. Survival of the whitetail deer is assured. It is assured so well, the deer have become a hazard on the highways.

If a person sees a deer near or on the road, the best plan of action is to slow down as quickly as can be done safely. Do not swerve or try to miss the deer. Veering off the road or into oncoming traffic is going to do a lot more damage to a vehicle and its occupants than smacking a deer. If you see one deer, there are at least two with it. In two to three weeks, there will be at least four deer in a group. If you miss one, do

not assume you are in the clear. The last one in the group will be a big buck and will do some real damage to your vehicle. As much as it may be against one’s natural instinct, it is best to drive straight and do not try to avoid a collision. I know people, such as my wife, that really like their truck or car. It is hard for a person, such as her, to drive straight at something that will wrinkle her sheet metal. I personally have never been so attached to a truck that I would go out of my way to avoid an accident. Trucks can be repaired. That is why I have insurance. I also have insurance on me, but I take longer to repair than I used to and much longer than a truck. I will try not to hit one, but if the choice is the deer or the ditch, the deer is a goner. There is a solution to the problem of deer overpopulation, and since I was part of creating the problem, I plan to be part of the solution. So far, I have five deer tags, and I will fill them all. I plan to get at least four does, and maybe

five. It is hard to pass up a really nice buck, and I will hunt hard for one, but the doe population needs to be thinned out. A mature doe will generally have twins, and sometimes triplets. With a live weight between a hundred and one hundred fifty pounds, they will also yield a nice amount of really tasty meat. I have found, my wife and I can eat two

deer per year, especially if I make most of it into jerky. I have also found other people who do not hunt that want the meat. As hunters, we need to make a concerted effort to decrease the doe numbers. If we let most of the bucks go, they will be bigger next year, and with fewer does around, the roads will be safer for everyone.

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We signed in and went into a small room with plenty of cages of cats and kittens.

Addie knelt before one of the lower crates, “Hi, Jade!” My granddaughter looked at the sleeping cat with muse while Evelyn viewed other cats.

I asked Addie if she wanted to see Jade in a visitation room. “It’s not allowed,” she said. “Jade is a stray cat, and she’s still on intake, so we can’t hold her yet.” This kid sure knew a lot about the shelter’s rules.

Addie returned to the front desk with more questions about adoption costs and procedures. I was so proud of her diligence; she was really on top of this! In the car, she asked, “Papa, what does plus tax mean?” I felt like we were having ‘the talk’ as I explained this reality of life.

I told my granddaughters there was a girl with kittens for sale at Dan’s Feed Bin in Superior earlier that day. “Did she have a tortoiseshell,” Addie asked. I didn’t stop to see

the cats, so I did not know the answer. “Can we go see?” We drove across the bridge to Superior.

“Do you have a tortoiseshell,” Addies asked. The girl said she had one, but it was the first kitten picked from the litter. “The torties always get picked first,” Addies said.

After visiting the shelter and Dan’s Feed Bin, it was time for swimming lessons at the Y, then home for supper. It was a busy afternoon. The girls didn’t get any screen time that night and didn’t complain.

Wednesday morning, Addie asked, “Did you sleep well, Papa?”

“Nope,” I replied. “I barely slept at all.” After the girls went to bed, I tried writing some more, but it wasn’t coming. Besides, their dog, Sunnie, was being quite needy and clingy and in my face. I didn’t mind; I missed Nova Mae, and the canine’s affection was appreciated. Finally,

(Just the Other Day cont’d on pg 4)

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(Just the Other Day cont’d from pg 1)

(Just the Other Day cont’d from pg 3)

I put Sunnie in her kennel for the night and laid down, too. At about 11:00, Sunnie was restless in the kennel. Assuming she wanted out, I got up with her. The same happened around midnight and again at 1:00. She didn’t have to go out; she just wanted to be with me. Sydney and John don’t allow this, but they weren’t home, and what they don’t know wouldn’t hurt them. “Come on, Sunnie.” I patted the mattress. Sunnie jumped on the bed and slept beside me – until 2:15 in the morning.

Sunnie was licking my hands, arm, and face. “Sunnie! Go to sleep!” She licked my face more, lightly nibbling at my hand and whining. Nova does if she needs to go in the middle of the night. “Come on,” I complained as I slipped into my shoes. I opened the back door and stepped onto the porch.

Sunnie ran about twenty feet to the left. She pottied, then snapped her head toward the enclosed gazebo as if she were on point. This could not be good.

A family of bears lives around their house, and dogs and bears are not friends. “No, Sunnie! Leave it! Whatever it is, leave it!” But my commands fell on deaf ears.

Sunnie charged toward the gazebo, about fifteen feet to the right of the back door. She ran behind the small building, then around the front. She doubled back and went behind again. That’s the area where the kids have seen bears come from the woods. “Sunnie! Get over here now!” She was focused, determined, and not listening to me at all. Suddenly, the motion light turned off. I could still see Sunnie’s silhouette pursuing her nemesis in the bright moonlight. I clapped my hands loudly, “Sunnie! Stop, now!”

The motion light came back on just in time for me to see the dog running from behind the gazebo, plowing her face through the wet grass as she ran! Simultaneously, a very distinct and pungent aroma permeated the air! Sunnie took a direct shot to the face from a skunk! Then the dog turned and ran toward me for help.

I wasn’t sure where all the skunk sprayed her, so I did not want to touch Sunnie with my hands either. I grabbed a stick by the back door, swinging it in front of me, poking at the dog to keep the stinky varmint from rubbing up against me. I scolded her, “You just had to mess with the skunk. I told you to leave it alone, but you wouldn’t listen!”

I would NOT let the dog in the house, but I didn’t want to leave her out where the skunk could spray her again. I corralled Sunnie into the gazebo and closed the door. I took my pants off outside and hung them over the railing in case Sunnie had brushed me.

I went inside the house, sat on a bar stool in my boxer shorts, and began searching: how to get the skunk smell off the dog. I yelled at the back door, “This is NOT what I wanted to be doing at three in the morning, Sunnie!”

What I learned about a dog sprayed by a skunk: Do not let the dog back in the house. Duh. Tomato juice will not neutralize the skunk’s odor. If the skunk sprayed the dog in the mouth or eyes, medical attention would be needed be sought from the veterinarian. Sunnie wasn’t sick, but I needed to check her eyes.

I didn’t know how to turn on the motion lights manually. So, before opening the door, I peered through the window. I wanted assurance that the skunk wasn’t lurking in the dark, waiting for me. I opened the door slowly, stepping outside. The door bumped into something just as I stepped on the porch. I nearly jumped out of my skin! In the dark, I

could see there was a bear on the porch with me!

I screamed like a girl and grabbed the stick by the door. I started jabbing at the bear to save my life! The bear jumped up. Instead of fighting back, it started wagging its tail, which activated the motion light. Then the bear started spinning in short circles on the porch, trying to push into me.

“Wait a minute. Bears don’t wag their tails!” Everything was happening so fast that I was understandably confused. “Sunnie! How the heck did you get out of the gazebo?”

I let out another shriek as reality set in. “The skunk opened the door to let Sunnie out!” I began frantically looking about for that stinky critter. I started patting my chest to get my heart to beat normally again. “Breathe, Tom. Breathe.” But I couldn’t breathe; the stench was still so strong!

Once I stopped hyperventilating, I used the stick to herd the dog to the garage. “Let’s see you get out of there, Houdini,” I told the fourlegged escape artist dog. I went back to the house. The smell was so strong by the back door that I couldn’t tell if I had skunk juice on me. I went inside, washing my bare legs with a paper towel and Dawn dish soap.

By now, it was starting to get light outside. I put on clean pants, then went upstairs and woke the girls. “It’s time to get up for school, sweetie.” One of the girls asked where Sunnie was. “She wanted to sleep in the garage last night,” I answered.

When we walked outside to

the car, the girls wrinkled their little noses, “Papa, did you fart?” Grrr.

While the girls were at school, I called the vet. “Did Nova Mae get sprayed,” Dr. Kylee asked. “Are her eyes swollen, red, or watering?”

“It was Sydney and John’s dog,” I said. “I’m supposed to be dog-sitting, and I must get her cleaned up before they get home.”

The good doctor explained how to neutralize the smell using hydrogen peroxide and baking soda. “Be careful not to get the solution in her eyes or mouth,” she said. “Then wash the oil away with Dawn dish soap.” After two treatments, the smell was gone. (I think) Wednesday was busy, but I still got a short nap in the afternoon.

I picked the girls up after school. “I have an idea,” I said. “Would you girls like to get pumpkins and carve JackO-Lanterns?” They thought that was a great idea! “But, if we do pumpkins, it’s going to cut into your screen time,” I said. They were completely willing to forfeit their screentime, so we drove to the pumpkin patch at the corner of North Arlington Avenue and Central Entrance; the guy had thousands of pumpkins!

The girls picked up the first two pumpkins they saw. “You should look around a little,” I suggested. They grabbed a small wagon and began looking, each girl selecting the perfect orange orb. “Now you need to pick a pumpkin for John and one for your mom,” I said. We loaded the pumpkins and headed for home.

Under close supervision, Addie tried to cut her pumpkin

top, but it was too hard, so I cut it for her. “Can you do mine, too, Papa,” Ev asked. With the pumpkin tops cut out, the girls tried carefully removing the innards with a spoon. They weren’t making much progress.

“You might have to use your hands,” I suggested.

At first, they thought it was gross, but soon, they were having a blast, elbows deep, pulling out stringy pumpkin guts and seeds. “Can we keep the seeds to cook and eat them,” Evelyn asked. Next, she asked, “Can you make some eyes and a smile? I want triangle eyes.” She showed me where she wanted them, and I did the cutting.

“I just want eyes in mine,” Addie instructed. No mouth or nose? “No, Papa. Just eyes,” she reaffirmed. Addie took a handful of seeds and threw them into the garden. “Now, we’ll get more pumpkins next year,” she said.

“After dark, we’ll put candles in your Jack-O-Lanterns,” I said. “We’ll turn off all the lights, and when your mom and John get home, they’ll see the pumpkins glowing on the back porch.” The girls loved the idea of a surprise.

When they returned home, Sydney and John were pleased with the girls’ surprise. “Man, a skunk must be someplace close by the back door,” Sydney said. “It’s really strong out there.”

On Saturday, we went to the kids’ house for dinner. “Where are the lids to your Jack-OLanterns,” I asked Evelyn and Addison.

“You better ask Sunnie about

that,” Addie replied. Sunnie slithered away with a guilty look, but was she really the culprit?

Sunday, Sydney posted a video of the bears in the backyard. One bear was right up on the porch, snooping around the Jack-O-Lanterns. A short while later, John sent me a video of a bear in the yard stealing a pumpkin. I knew it was Addie’s Jack-OLantern because it had two big eyes. No nose, no mouth, just two eyes.

When I thought there wasn’t much to write about this week, life happened. I am blessed.