Saturday encore ~ Another UFO sighting in New Mexico

I cannot believe it's been almost a year since Mr. P waddled into our lives. I'm certain he still lives on the ranch somewhere; I regularly see evidence on the back 40 that he's been chowing down on the cholla. This encore post documents the night we first met. Scroll down to the bottom of the page and click on the label "porcupine" if you'd like to read more about his history here.

***

It was around 8:30 Friday night. It was cold outside, the woodstove was blazing inside, and we (Smooch, me, Rosebud, Daffodil and Snapper) were hunkered down for the evening, getting ready to make dinner and watch ... you don't want to know. But it rhymes with The Seal Mousehives.

Anyway, Smooch runs into the guest room and starts barking bloody murder. Then the cats run over to that side of the house. Then I run over and turn on the back porchlights.

Me: What's all the fuss about, Smooch? I don't see anything!

Smooch: BARKBARKBARKBARKBARK! BARK!

I look again. Nothing. Keep looking. Nothing. Then I saw it. A UFO (Unidentified Fat Object) waddling down one of Smooch's paths next to the fence. I think my eyes might have popped out of my head an inch or two. I had no earthly idea what it was. It was black, with short stubby legs and a short stubby tail, and as round as it was long. Way too big for pack rat. Way too small for a bear. Way too fat a cat.
What could it be?

I threw on my coat and shoes and grabbed the camera. My plan was to get some pictures, then come back in the house to look at them and figure out what I was dealing with. Seemed like a perfectly reasonable idea.

It's challenging to take pictures of a black animal in the dark. First I had to find it. The porchlights provided enough of a glow to spot something moving in the corner of the yard. I fired off about 20 shots then ran back in the house.

Ewww. I had no clue what it was. I saw a badger once when I first moved here, so I thought maybe this was a baby badger. I posted the picture above on facebook and folks started weighing in right away. Everybody thought it was a porcupine. Porcupine? We have porcupines in New Mexico? I'd never seen one in person before. What do I know from porcupines?

I decided to take a closer look at some of the other pictures. Hmm. Didn't see any quills, but maybe if I enhanced them like they do on TV... Roll your mouse between the margin and the picture below and pretend you're watching CSI: New Mexico.

Yep, it's a porcupine. Now what do we do? 

Open the gate, hope he finds his way out, keep Smooch inside, and worry about it in the morning.

So Saturday breaks and as soon as it was light enough to see, I combed the backyard looking for porcupine tracks or, heaven forbid, the porcupine. Didn't find either, so I let Smooch out to help me with the investigation.

Smooch: He was definitely back here at some point.

Snapper: Please be careful, mom. You haven't fed me breakfast yet.

Smooch: Somebody's been sitting in my chair.

Smooch: Somebody's been waddling down my path.

Smooch: Somebody's been digging in my dirt ... and look! There he is! Oops. False alarm.

Smooch: What are we going to do if he comes back?

Me: Hard to say. For now, your curfew starts when the sun goes down, 

all after-dark pottie breaks will be conducted on the end of a leash, 

and the porch light is staying on. And I'll do a little research on what the folks in Roswell did when they saw their UFO.

Wildlife census report, June 2012

If Smooch looks a little weary, it's because she's been working overtime on ranch security. Between the snakes on the porch and the pronghorns on the perimeter, the poor dog never gets a break. It's been a very busy month for wildlife here at the 7MSN and time for an official census report.

Many of you assumed yesterday's "He's Back" post would be about the neon-orange-tailed bullsnake living under the air conditioner. I'm happy to report that he was caught last Friday, driven wayyyyy down the road, and released. Which is the only good thing about the recent onset of near-100 degree weather. I started using the air conditioner, disrupting the dirty rotten scoundrel's environment, and was able to catch him.

All was peaceful and harmonious for almost 24 hours, then Smooch alerted me to a rattlesnake in the back yard. Can we take a moment for a shout-out for Smooch? Nothing gets past this dog, and she has gotten the snake-alert thing down to a science. She does her snake bark until I come outside, I tell her what a good girl she is, then she runs in the house while I go catch the snake. What a team.

Anyway, I caught the rattlesnake, dumped him in the tupperware snake box, then put the box in the back of my truck. He would be going for a very long ride the next day...

...when I drove out to the highway to meet my visitors to lead them back in to the ranch. I thought they might want to have the the full ranch experience, so I let them have a look and listen before I released him. Hostess with the most-est, that's me.

The swallow population is eternally grateful. No more snakes crawling up the stucco walls to eat them. For now. And yes, those dark hairs you see are from Hank's tail. We're all about recycling here at the 7MSN.

As for Turtle Steve, he usually shows up for two reasons: 1) company's coming and 2) it rains. When Lucy and I spotted him a few days ago, we had gotten two-tenths of an inch of rain the night before and company was expected the next day. I can set my clock by this guy.

Unlike Mr. P, who remains elusive. I truly believe he got sick of me talking to him and asking him to pose for pictures. He wanted his privacy. Who could blame him?

I haven't seen him lately, but I know where he lives. The bottom of every cholla in the vicinity has been stripped like an ear of corn.

The pronghorns are everywhere this time of year. I love it when one poses outside the bedroom window long enough for me to find the camera and take a picture.

Then there are the ravens. As soon as it started getting really hot, this trio took up residence in the corral. They're no fools. They hang out all day drinking out of (and pooping in) the stock tank.

They're flighty devils, though. Last night I tried to sneak up on them to take pictures. Inch by inch, step by step, I walked toward them with my camera glued my face, oblivous to all else. Just as I framed the perfect close-up, a dozen big black ants started crawling up my bare legs. I was standing on an ant hill. How special. I screamed and jumped around and scared Lucy and the boys, and the ravens flew away, and I started to itch and scream some more. It wasn't pretty. I'll take a rattlesnake over black ants any day. Quoth the rancher woman, nevermore.

Down the road with Smooch and Stephen King

Mornings just aren't long enough in weather like this to do everything that needs doing. All the important stuff – like barn chores, walking Smooch, and going to town and back – have to be done "on the freeze," as we say. Wait too long and you risk getting into violent arguments with the muck cart, having your shoes sucked off, or your truck mired hopelessly in the mud.

Saturday morning, Smooch and I sacrificed our walk and headed to Walmart at 5:00 with three critical items on our list: a card reader to make my new camera work, a salt brick for Mr. P, and groceries. As much as I whine about Walmart, there's something to be said about being to able to buy all of the above at 6 in the morning at the only place in town that's open. Anyway, the new camera is working now,
Mr. P has another reason to hang around, and I won't go hungry this week.

Sunday morning, Smooch and I headed out on the freeze for our first walk of the year. We took Stephen King's new book "11-22-63" on my ipod. I'm not a fan of Stephen King by any stretch of the imagination, but when I read the reviews of this novel, I couldn't resist. Holy moly, what a great story. I'm about a quarter of the way through it and can't put it down.

Our first stop was Mr. P's tree. It's been a few days since I've seen him, 

but he left teeth marks on the salt brick, so I know he's around.

He's also made a few more deposits in the bank at the base of his other tree. 

Smooch: Mom, I think aliens are landing in the pasture.

Me: No, hon', that's just a reflection from dust on the lens. 

Smooch: You need to take better care of your equipment.

Me: One conscience in this family is enough, thank you very much. 

Keep your thoughts to yourself and help me look for Mr. P.

Much of the snow melted Saturday – it was a balmy 54 degrees.

It was 26 degrees Sunday when Smooch and I were walking. 

Somebody had driven down the road "on the thaw" and left an impressive set of ruts.

It crossed my mind that we might find "somebody" stuck in a ditch if we walked far enough.

Alas, we made it once around the fence line, then things started to get squishy and we called it done, 

which was really too bad because I wanted to stay out there for many more chapters.

Looking back

2011. It was a mighty good year at the 7MSN. There were a whole lot of ups and only the occasional down. Yesterday I went back through every stinkin' post from 2011 to help me remember all the things that happened. Did you know that studies show blogging is an effective treatment for memory loss? Ok, maybe I made that up, but seriously, a huge benefit of daily blogging is being able to look back on a period of time and reminisce.

I selected one picture from every post I published in 2011 and compiled them in chronological order, more or less, in this video. Then I edited a bunch of them out because nobody in their right mind would sit through a video that long.

Thanks for sticking with me throughout the year. Your friendship means more to me than you will ever know, because I'm not very good at expressing that touchy-feely stuff. I hope some of these snippets will jog your memory as they've jogged mine, and we can smile together about the adventures we've shared this year.

Poopsicles

My corral has been covered in snow for 27 days. 

The manic manure manager in me is about to have a mental meltdown.

I diligently scoop poop from the stalls and the few bare spots where the snow has melted,

but underneath the snow and frozen to the surface are miles and miles of piles.

By late afternoon on a sunny day, some of the poopsicles have thawed enough to scoop up and cart away,

but semi-frozen poop clogs up the poop spreader. So instead of spreading the poop, 

I haul the spreader out to the poop track and tip it over.

I'll run the harrow over the poop hills once the weather warms up and they thaw out.

Obviously I've been thinking way too much about equine poop lately. 

I'm also reading about it:

Just when I thought I knew everything I ever needed to know about the subject, along comes this book, with instructions on how to make paper from horse poop:
1. Soak dried manure overnight.
2. Place manure in an old pillowcase and hose it down.
3. Cook the manure in soda ash for two hours.
4. Rinse well and pulverize in a kitchen blender.
The end product can now be used in a paper mold just like any other paper pulp.

I don't need another hobby, but I must say I'm intrigued. I wonder if the same technique would work to make paper out of pig poop...or porcupine poop? I could start a whole line of stationery.

This, by the way, is porcupine poop. I found the pile at the base of Mr. P's tree yesterday.

The Christmas that almost wasn't

Christmas Eve morning, I hopped in my truck, determined to make it to the post office to pick up an important package. I got about a mile down the road and had to turn back. The snow drifts made the road impassable. I was crestfallen. My friends from Morning Bray Farm were supposed to come over for Christmas and there was no way for them to get through. I would have to call them and cancel the Christmas festivities. Boy, was I bummed.

But when I got home, I talked to my neighbor, who mentioned he was on his way out to try and clear the road with his tractor because he had to go to work on Monday. He would let me know later that afternoon how far he got. Around 5:00, I reported to Justina and Don that they should be able to make it...but they might want to throw a shovel, some chains, and various assorted emergency gear in their truck just in case.

So Santa Claus wasn't the only one who was busy Christmas Eve. I stayed up all night plotting strategies for digging Justina's and Don's truck out of a snow bank. But I needn't have worried. They arrived safely Christmas morning, which was the best present of all. The sun was out, the wind wasn't blowing, and we were able to carry on and do what we always do when we get together...hang out with the herd, eat, drink, and be merry.

Lucy got what she wanted for Christmas – ear rubs from Justina.

Notice George and Alan patiently waiting to receive their butt rubs gifts.

George and Alan mistakenly believed Santa had brought them each a chair.

George gave Justina a hug for Christmas.

And Hank gave her a kiss.

Hank and Don both wore their finest Christmas bonnets.

Don had antler envy...

...so Hank agreed to trade for awhile.

Before we sat down to dinner, we went stalking the wild porcupine. 

We found plenty of tracks, but no porcupine.

Finally, it was time for dinner. Thanks for taking this photo, Justina.

The mint jelly got its own seat because I thought it was tacky have a jar on the table.

The food was plentiful and delicious, if I do say so myself, but it was not the highlight of the day.

After dinner, we went back outside to burn off some calories before dessert.

And who should we find?

Mr. P decided to join us for Christmas.

Photo by Justina.

Playing peek-a-boo with a porcupine

It was Sunday morning around 8:30 and Smooch and I were headed out on a walk. As we approached the gate at the end of our driveway, who should I see waddling under our fence but Mr. Porcupine. It was the first time I had seen him in the daylight, and darn it all if he wasn't the cutest little bugger. Smooch and I stood there as he slowly waddled under a tree. I politely asked him to stick around until we got back, as I wanted to take his picture.

About an hour later, Smooch and I returned, and who should we see again but Mr. Porcupine, waddling from Tree A to Tree B,
where I had seen him once before and suspected he lived. I took Smooch into the house, retrieved my camera, and went back outside
searching for Mr. Porcupine.

Hello, Mr. Porcupine. Remember me? 

The nice lady who didn't shoot you about a month ago?

I don't mind you living in this tree as long as you promise 

to keep your distance from Smooch and everybody else who lives here.

Mr. Porcupine: Were you really going to shoot me?

Me: It was an option...but then I did my homework and learned what a docile creature you can be 

as long as you're not threatened. And then I saw this video.

You just darned well better behave yourself so that all those folks out there

who are ready to say "I told you so" don't get the opportunity. Deal?

Mr. Porcupine: Deal.

 

Putting the porcupine problem into its proper perspective

It was Tuesday, four days post-porcupine sighting. Smooch was adjusting to guarding the living room instead of the back porch from sunset 'til bedtime, and I was adjusting to taking out Smooch on a leash for her last potty break of the night. Neither of us was too happy about our new world order, but I was taking no chances with a porcupine possibly on the prowl.

Anyway, we went for our walk and returned home when there was barely enough light to see. We were halfway up the driveway, in about the same spot where I took the picture below. Roll your mouse between the margin and the picture and you'll get an idea of how dark it was. You'll also get an idea of who else entered the picture.

Crap, I thought, and proceeded to walk Smooch as fast as I could to the house. My heart started beating really fast because 

I had already decided that if I ever saw the porcupine again, I should shoot it. It posed too great a danger to Smooch.

So I grab my gun and a flashlight and walk back out to the tree. I was standing right about where I took the picture below. 

You know the drill by now - roll your mouse over the photo...

The porcupine had climbed the tree and was taking a little nap. I looked at the porcupine, then I looked at my gun, then I said to myself, "I am so glad it's too dark to take a shot because I really don't want to do this." I went back in the house and pondered. And googled. And pondered some more. Really, what's the point of shooting one porcupine? The rest of his family must be hanging out in this vicinity, and there are probably hundreds more of them beyond my property. I can't shoot them all. They were here long before I was and have been minding their own business all this time. Instead of picking them off, I need to figure out a way for us to peacefully co-exist.

In all probability, the porcupine who paid us a visit last Friday night entered Smooch's yard by climbing the coyote fence - 

that's what we call those tree limbs lining the wire fence in the picture above.

In this case, it's not serving as a real fence – it just hides stuff that I'd rather not look at.

So yesterday, I took the coyote fence down.

Smooch: Wow! Look how much easier it is to see trespassers. I could get used to this.

Me: You can see trespassers and I can see the propane tank. Oh, well. A small price to pay for peace of mind. 

Let's pray that those pesky porcupine perpetrators won't prowl around in your playpen now.

Another UFO sighting in New Mexico

It was around 8:30 Friday night. It was cold outside, the woodstove was blazing inside, and we (Smooch, me, Rosebud, Daffodil and Snapper) were hunkered down for the evening, getting ready to make dinner and watch ... you don't want to know. But it rhymes with The Seal Mousehives.

Anyway, Smooch runs into the guest room and starts barking bloody murder. Then the cats run over to that side of the house. Then I run over and turn on the back porchlights.

Me: What's all the fuss about, Smooch? I don't see anything!

Smooch: BARKBARKBARKBARKBARK! BARK!

I look again. Nothing. Keep looking. Nothing. Then I saw it. A UFO (Unidentified Fat Object) waddling down one of Smooch's paths next to the fence. I think my eyes might have popped out of my head an inch or two. I had no earthly idea what it was. It was black, with short stubby legs and a short stubby tail, and as round as it was long. Way too big for pack rat. Way too small for a bear. Way too fat a cat.
What could it be?

I threw on my coat and shoes and grabbed the camera. My plan was to get some pictures, then come back in the house to look at them and figure out what I was dealing with. Seemed like a perfectly reasonable idea.

It's challenging to take pictures of a black animal in the dark. First I had to find it. The porchlights provided enough of a glow to spot something moving in the corner of the yard. I fired off about 20 shots then ran back in the house.

Ewww. I had no clue what it was. I saw a badger once when I first moved here, so I thought maybe this was a baby badger. I posted the picture above on facebook and folks started weighing in right away. Everybody thought it was a porcupine. Porcupine? We have porcupines in New Mexico? I'd never seen one in person before. What do I know from porcupines?

I decided to take a closer look at some of the other pictures. Hmm. Didn't see any quills, but maybe if I enhanced them like they do on TV... Roll your mouse between the margin and the picture below and pretend you're watching CSI: New Mexico.

Yep, it's a porcupine. Now what do we do? 

Open the gate, hope he finds his way out, keep Smooch inside, and worry about it in the morning.

So Saturday breaks and as soon as it was light enough to see, I combed the backyard looking for porcupine tracks or, heaven forbid, the porcupine. Didn't find either, so I let Smooch out to help me with the investigation.

Smooch: He was definitely back here at some point.

Snapper: Please be careful, mom. You haven't fed me breakfast yet.

Smooch: Somebody's been sitting in my chair.

Smooch: Somebody's been waddling down my path.

Smooch: Somebody's been digging in my dirt ... and look! There he is! Oops. False alarm.

Smooch: What are we going to do if he comes back?

Me: Hard to say. For now, your curfew starts when the sun goes down, 

all after-dark pottie breaks will be conducted on the end of a leash, 

and the porch light is staying on. And I'll do a little research on what the folks in Roswell did when they saw their UFO.