The Timely Return Of Felicia The Fox And Other Things I Haven't Been Blogging About...

For many months, we've been wondering if Felicia The Fox was still alive and well. We didn't see her all winter and I was beginning to think she'd met with some sort of fatality. Then it dawned on me.



Our son has visited FOUR TIMES with his dog since Christmas. Being the smart fox that she is, Felicia was avoiding the Pit Bull Terrier *Deja*. Come to think of it, I realize that I didn't spend much time outside until I knew the dog wouldn't be here again. I'm sorry about Deja's fate, but she was taking a definite toll on my backyard. My yard, vegetable garden, and plants are like my babies. I love them and they love me back.

Today I've been up since dawn planting my vegetable garden (beyond this garden gate) and didn't see Felicia all day. I finally came in to shower and get cleaned up before Mr. Snoots got home. When I finished, I went in to the kitchen to start dinner and when I glanced out the kitchen door, there she was in all her beautiful glory. She really is a stunning creature.

When we came home from Las Vegas, Felicia had left her *calling card* of rather grainy looking poop, out by where I park my car. That was my first and only clue that she was still with us. Hey, I speak that language. It was just her way of letting me know that she's still here and marking her territory.




I was so thrilled to see her this evening I almost ran over and hugged her. Of course, that would not be a good idea, considering that she's a wild animal. However, we've lived harmoniously for so long, I feel almost as if she's an old friend, returned for a visit.




So today, my heart soars for the return of my old friend, Felicia. Damn! I really need to get a life, don't I?


I wonder if I'll get to see her pups this year…





I spent the weekend repotting plants and just trying to get the patio into *summer mode*. Scraping off the West Texas dirt is always a challenge. Too bad you can't pay someone to do this... I mean the way I would do it. You know. Like a *mini-me*. Wouldn't that be wonderful?




Why is it that you can pack for a five day trip in 24 hours and yet have it take a week to get unpacked and back to normal? Oh, that's right. Laundry and ironing. Bleh!

As soon as I get caught up around here at home, I'll get up to snuff on everyone's blogs. Once I get the patio in order and the vegetable garden planted, I'll be back to maintenance and thus, blogging.

The next task I have to tackle this year is separating my bed of Day Lilies and my bed of Columbine. I'll either have to give some away or transplant to the backyard. Or both. Both beds are totally out of control and I've let them go for several years now. I can no longer dilly-dally for fear of losing them altogether.

Camera Critters Sunday..... A New Life

For Camera Critters Sunday I thought I'd bring you a picture of a White Tail Deer Fawn who was born in the flower bed just outside our sliding glass doors at our former lake house one Summer, as well as one of her mother, who was our White Tail friend.

Someday I will tell you my many stories from the 20+ years we owned the lake house, but for now I'd like to share this particular tale of the little fawn.

One Summer the kids & I were at the lake house for the duration of the hot months since the children were still small and didn't have dozens of activities to keep them at home yet. So, we'd usually pack up like The Beverly Hillbillys into the Suburban and head to the lake we called ours, in the Texas Hill Country. Since the children were still toddlers, we didn't yet let them bring friends. It was a huge place with 4 bedrooms, 3 baths, and an enormous great room with the kitchen in the center of it all. One entire side of the great room was plate glass windows, as well as half of another, like an L shape. There was one set of sliding glass doors at one end and another set of glass doors at the other end. Both entries had steps (or a stoop) leading down to the patio with flower beds lining the entire patio. We only ever used one of the entrances and the other was almost as if no one even knew that it was there. It was in the bed by this stoop that the doe decided to have her fawn.

We always had dozens of deer at the lake that came right up into the yard and we always kept lots of corn on hand for the kids and guests to feed them. They were also a great garbage disposal resource for things like watermelon rind, apple cores and the like. They were also handy to have around in case of snakes, because a White Tail deer will either kill the snake or tree them. We always had a plentiful supply of rattlesnakes, so I was comforted by the presence of the deer, spending a small fortune on deer corn in order to keep them there.

For around 4 or 5 years we had a semi-pet deer who knew us and came to see us every time we were there and the kids named her Mama Deer (yes, I know... not very original). We always knew which one she was because she had a clipped ear, as if it had been bitten off in a fight. But, she would come up to any of us and eat from our hands, which was a great source of glee for the kids. She was just precious and always so gentle around the babies. My children both still remember her vividly. This was back before Lyme's Disease and huge tick infestations and we had several great horned owls that lived on the property. They worked very hard at keeping pests and varmints trimmed back.

Anyway, fire ants had at last made their way into the Hill Country several years earlier so we were constantly battling them. Many times we would find newborn fawns already dead on the property, killed by fire ants. So, when this precious baby was born in the bed on the porch, we just knew it had to be Mama Deer's. She would have been the only one who trusted us enough to fawn by the porch. Sure enough, a couple of days later, we saw her with her fawn. I always thought she must have known that close to the house was a safe place away from the ants. The fawn never took to us the way Mama Deer did and soon just became another of the small herd on the property.

Then, one year we went to the lake and Mama Deer never came and we were all so sad (alright, I bawled like a baby because it just broke my heart), yet we were thankful that we'd had her stick around for so many years. We couldn't even tell which fawn was hers by that time, so it seemed almost as if we were closing the chapter to a book. I guess we were, really. The kids were growing up and life was moving on, but Mama Deer will live forever in our hearts.