Notes from the Lady Hawk

Yesterday found me "snowed in" again, meaning the rest of the world was normal, but our driveway was solid ice. I decided to take advantage of the opportunity to slow down for a second and appreciate the beauty of my remote and bazaar abode. I really get a kick out of seeing neighbors "M" and "B" ride their horses by every morning. Yesterday I went running out in my fuzzy pink bathrobe and took their picture. Then I appreciated my Airstream windows, and of course White Nite. Ever loving White Nite. I got him an official water bottle, which is keeping him really busy. He climbs up on it every night and pulls a Shawshank Redemption on me...gnawing a hole in his plastic storage tub cage that gets bigger and bigger every night. Little does he know that freedom is just around the corner. Come spring equinox he will be released into sweet spring freedom (in the old house). I am planning a party to celebrate spring and freedom of the wild, unbridled spirit of White Nite (and the reflection of that I find in my human self). Mark the date- March 28th-ish

Birthday Party at the VFW

About a week and a half ago, BS called me and asked me if I wanted to go to a redneck party. I was like, "yes." She invited me to her boyfriend TH's surprise
60th birthday party, to occur Saturday night at the VFW on Leicester Highway. Well I was excited because I really like being invited to other people's stopmin grounds, and I had never been to a VFW before.
I was pleasantly surprised that Jude wanted to come with me. We hopped in her car, swung by the ABC to pick TH up a bottle of Captain Morgan's special reserve, and were off to the VFW by 9:00. Non members (non veterans of foreign wars, I guess) pay a $7 cover charge and sign in at the door. The door lady also labeled our bottle of rum. We found TH's table by all the Over the Hill style balloons and the cake that said "1949 Model Terry: From 0-60 in no time flat!" and had dashboard gages painted in frosting. (BS's niece from Flag Pond TN made the cake). We sat down and waited for the guest of honor to arrive.
I thought BS was going to reserve the whole club for the party, but I was wrong. The club was opened for business, and that made me very happy, because I really enjoyed the population of VFW clubbers. Some people were regular, but some people had some really special styles- I will leave that up to your imagination (think mullet and don't stop there). The atmosphere was really dim and very smokey and there was a kick-ass country cover band. Some of my favorite numbers they played were When the Sun Goes Down and I May Be a Real Bay Boy, But Baby I'm a Real Good Man. I think the rums and cokes made me forget what my other favorite numbers were. TH got up in the middle and sang some songs with the band- he really rocked out and the crowd went wild. I danced with some veterans and had one feller who was very interested in seeing me again. Very interested. A man in a patriotic tee shirt with wild stallions running with a backdrop of an American flag asked Jude to dance, but she said no thanks. AMH tied one on and we boogied down together.
Between sets they played the Electric Slide, and a bunch of ladies and one man (who was wearing a Mount Rushmore tee shirt) line danced. I had to join in of course. I think Jude was impressed by my Electric Sliding (correct me if I'm wrong...)

So, in summary, here's to 60 more years, T!

Note for Kerry and Meg

Buenos dias, I have a....pet mouse
Buenas noches, do you want to touch it?

God bless Andreas Bolanos, and may his hot ass ears burn every time we utter his name...

To everyone else, I wish you could have been there to understand this...
Sorry for the inside joke, stay tuned for an upcoming post about a kick ass party at the VFW on Leicester Highway.

D

Cooper's Hawk and White Nite

Please don't be alarmed by this post's title: White Nite is still alive in the Airstream. Having said that, I will tell you that he has been on my mind a whole lot lately. Two mornings ago, I got a call from Marlene, Jenna's caredgiver, who told me that a Cooper's Hawk had flown smack into Jenna's window and hurt itself. Since I had gotten snowed into Hot Springs the night before, I was right down the road at Mom and Dad's so I hurried over to check the scene. Marlene had gotten the bird and put it into a box inside, and sure enough, it was a gorgeous Cooper's Hawk. Well, didn't you know I wished I had White Nite to feed it (even though CM, the expert who I consulted for the care of the screech owl a few weeks ago, told me that injured/traumatized birds will not eat.) I had the best time carefully handling the hawk to assess it for broken bones and equilibrium and such. By best assessment was that it didn't have any broken bones but was suffering a head trauma (CM directed my assessment over the phone.) Marlene and Jenna and I talked about too bad White Nite wasn't there. Well that ole White Nite must have felt something in the air because when I got back to the Airstream that night, shore enuff he had escaped from his cage for the first time ever and was sitting in my Crock shoe. Again the next day he got out of his cage. I have had to really secure the lid tightly to prevent that. Last night he spent 4 solid hours trying very hard to leap out of the closed and secured cage. Today I held him and told him what a silly mouse he is and petted his soft coat, and he dropped 3 turds in my lap.

The hawk had not acheived equilibrium after 24 hours, so yesterday Jenna and her caregiver took him to the Sweeten Creek Animal and Bird Hospital (silly name because birds are animals...) I called today, and they informed me that he didn't have any broken bones but suffered a head trauma, and a volunteer had taken him over to Blue Ridge Wildlife Center in Boone. They are hoping to rehab and release him. As always, it was super exciting to be up close and personal with a wild predatorial animal. The talons cut my arm through 3 layers of shirts. He was very scared and defensive- I don't blame him. I will post pictures when I get them.

post script regarding White Nite

I was talking tonight to Meg, who I am proud to say has been my consistent dear friend since the 1st grade. Meg lives in the giant entity of Texas, but we talk regularly, thanks to the modern convenience of cell phones. Meg is a Dana-Dee blog reader (thank Jesus), and she called me out on something from my latest White Nite post. She remarked that she thought I was trying to ruffle the feathers of my animal loving blog readers by saying that I would release White Nite in the presence of a "HONGRY" black snake. When she asked me if there was any truth in her accusation, I honestly admitted yes.
I think there is some truth in this. But I want to explain that there is more to the story. Since my adventures with White Nite began, I have surprisingly had many emotional reactions from friends and acquaintances concerning my plans and intentions for the mouse. A very interesting philisophical issue has surfaced in my conversations about White Nite. It seems that many people have the belief that it is wrong or inhumane to name and nurture an animal and then to turn around and feed it to another animal. People have implied that there is something wrong with me for being OK with establishing a relationship with White Nite based upon affection and care but still planning to allow him to be eaten by a predator.
I will say this to readers: I care about White Nite. It is my instinct to want to protect and nurture and feed him. I talk pretty to him and pet his soft fur. I handle him gently. And at the same time, I am OK if he dies at the jaws of a mightier beast. I really do not think I am sick or heartless for this. I think it is all very human- to want to nurture and protect creatures that are smaller and more vulnerable than oneself- and also to accept and embrace the laws of nature: every living being lives at the expense of the lives of other living beings. Death is part of life, and mice are prey of mightier beasts. This is their place in the order of things, and this will not change regardless of how attached I become to White Nite as a pet. It is my quest to be fully human that allows me to ride this paradox with White Nite- both caring for and protecting him, and eventually allowing him to be consumed.
Having said that, I would be utterly tickled if someone wanted to adopt White Nite as a pet and he lived a life in strange but protective captivity, never to be killed at the jaws of any beast, mighty or meek. But it seems I am not the only person who does not wish to have a pet white mouse...

White Nite Update

So, White Nite (see older post about accidental pet mouse) is still with me in the Airstream. He is available for adoption, but I haven't gotten any interested parties. I am thinking that if he hasn't been adopted by Spring Equinox, I will release him in the "old house," which is the house where Shorty Gentry spent the best 40 years of her life. It is caving in and would not be habitable for humans, but has lots of good materials left for mouse bedding, shelter from the elements, and a huge black snake which will come out of hibernation when it warms up enough and will probably be HONGRY! I want to ask you, the readers, what you think of this plan. Please comment.