The Adventures of Dementia Dog & Geriatric Cat

Poor old Roger the Dodger Staffy dog (11 y.o.) has dementia.  He sometimes stands there looking completely lost.  He now wanders off seemingly aimlessly and tires easily on walks.  But Roger is also a gentler, calmer boy and is still a delight to cuddle.  His appetite has not diminished and he still loves us unconditionally.

Cous Cous (15 y.o.) looks old now.  This photo shows her before her bones started to protrude.  She is also gentler these days and no longer bites or scratches when it takes her fancy.  Sleep is her thang but Cous Cous still loves a run and play with young Dr Watson the rex cat. 

Both of our elderly animals suffer somewhat under the persistent and sometimes less than gentle attention of our younger animals but would be lost without them.  Mixing the ages keeps the old ones young and the young ones learning.

Frangipani Art

At first I thought someone had been drawing on my old plastic table under the frangipani tree but it turns out the flowers leave their imprint somehow.  How lovely.

Devon Rex Super Cat

Microbats in Da House

My poor Dynamic Daughter.  The Lovely Husband and I left her alone last night (she is 17) and went out to a show featuring a couple of old rockers - Brian Cadd and Glenn Shorrock. Fantastic show by the way.

Keep in mind I had already freaked the Dynamic Daughter out by telling her that when the termites are finished munching on the house they would come down and consume her flesh.  I know, I am mean but after appreciating the shocked look on her face I did recant that statement.  Poor child.

So here it is in the country, night time and my girl has to put the dogs outside to their kennels.  The Dynamic Daughter hates, hates, HATES toads.  Cane toads to be exact.  They come out at night and sit there with good posture, poisonous glands glistening in the drizzling rain, beady unblinking eyes.  The DD runs the gauntlet of these creatures, terrified they will touch her, or worse, attack her in an organised group and bring her down (not likely to happen).  Job done, DD can relax and 'work;' at her computer in her room.

What's that?  A small shadow flits across her wall in front of her.  Able to ignore it for a little while the DD finally discovers there is a blood sucking, disease ridden, huge as an albatross bat in her room.  (Actually it is a harmless little microbat).  Fear once again envelopes this poor defenseless teenager and when the bat flies out of her room, she locks her door and stays safe and isolated in the knowledge that bats cannot turn door knobs.

If we have taught our daughter one thing it is to face up to your challenges and/or fears, even when it involves terrifying wildlife.  I once left her here armed only with an extended Enyo mop to fight off a carpet snake that was in the habit of trying to eat the budgies.  Again she had that horrified look on her face but this time I was serious. Luckily no snake that day.  Back to the bat in the house, DD opens her door and all the external doors to allow the poor terrified creature to escape, which it does.  Able to breathe again she heads back to her room only to be 'swooped' by a second little bat.  I imagine her nerves are close to shot by now but her hero, Dr Watson (the cat) takes that albatross sized creature out of the air and kills it.  Poor thing.  DD wraps the little fellow in newspaper and puts it in the bin.

The Lovely Husband and I arrive home and DD is in a state of nervous excitement.  While telling us the story, a third microbat whizzes silently past our heads.  Oh how cute says I.  I don't believe it says DD.  Dr Watson is on the job again but I don't want the poor little fellow killed.  They are little, silent harmless creatures.  The microbats eat insects and probably poop insect bits everywhere so it has to go.  It does fly out a window which is subsequently closed but that window leads to a closed-in veranda.  There are lots of places to hide on this large veranda for a little trapped bat.  It would appear that tonight we could be witnessing the flight of the microbat once again.  Poor Dynamic Daughter, all this nature is too much for her.

http://backyardbuddies.net.au/mammals/tree-dwellers/microbats

Young Negotiator Has Flown the Coop

The Young Negotiator at age 20 has left home.  Wahoo!  Yeehar!  Woop Woop!  Oh but he is lovely, that lad.  I did not mind living with him at all.  He is quiet and tends to be invisible but I am a person who, at age 17 years and one month left home to discover herself and live, I could see it was more than time for this lad to grow up away from parental concerns.  He has been cooking, washing, ironing, cleaning successfully for a long time so I was not worried about him domestically.  In fact, he was a lot better prepared than this innocent child of 17.  I was able to boil mince and overcook chicken like no-one ever before.

I believe strongly in learning through consequences.  Young adults do not always believe or listen to their parents advice, especially when it is offered through a poorly worn veil of frustration. I also believe you cannot tell a young adult what to do, only advise them.  It is their life to live but sometimes you wish you had that power again from when they were young.  And so as far as I am concerned the only way is through life experience, eg. paying your own bills, keeping the car serviced without the nagging of your parents, if you burn the crap out of a fry pan it may never recover and so you need to replace it, and perhaps cook on a lower heat.  It is also a time for me as a parent to stop worrying about him being late for his licence renewal or car registration etc.  We as parents try to prevent them from falling on their faces, being troubled by the stress of not being organised but we have to stop.  The easiest way is by them not being there.  Youth will learn by their mistakes, falling on their faces and 'oh, the electricity is out because I didn't pay the bill.  My internet!!!  I won't do that again' type scenarios.

Strangely, yet wonderfully, the Young Negotiator is asking for advice these days.  He wants to know why his steak is not cooking nicely when he has the pan on a low heat (fear of having to replace the burnt out remains as before).  He appreciated the advice of storing meal size left overs in the freezer for those late shift dinners instead of eating chilli con carne for four days in a row.  He has asked me where I buy my meat and what I think of certain cuts.  I LOVE it.

When people ask me how the Young Negotiator is going I tell them I can find out every second Tuesday night.  That is when he comes home for dinner.  Otherwise there is silence.  The Young Negotiator is not big on communication but those twice monthly dinners are when we hear it all.  He talks and laughs and enjoys home cooked meals.  He tells us what he has eaten, where he has been, what bargain he has purchased.  For example, he bought himself a table recently.  Yeah?  A wooden one?  Yes and it extends if I want it to. I bought it from an Op Shop.  It is for card games with friends and it is "out the back". Under cover? Yes.  OK, did it come with chairs then?  Yes.  How many?  Not sure, maybe six or eight.  Got to love him.  Maybe he will have a meal on it one day.

I am waiting for the need of money or the love of a good partner to spur him into at least a mild form of ambition.  He works and earns money and is happy which is more than a lot of people but when it comes to ambition he is very relaxed and, perhaps, that is not a bad thing.  Happiness is more important than status or money and he is happy.  I would not wish him otherwise.

One down and one to go.  The Dynamic Daughter is completing some studies at home and then she will be off.  Empty nest?  Not every second Tuesday anyway.

Megatron Destructopuppy Escapes Stalag 13

Yes, just look at her.  Who doesn't love a puppy right?  They are so cute and soft, playful and happy.  Oh yeah Megatron is just a bundle of joy.

Megatron was a free puppy, you know, the backyard mongrel that should be able to survive and thrive because of their hybrid vigour.  Tough as old boots and easy to care for.  Our new puppy is all of this and more.  She also comes with an uncanny ability to excavate where you are most likely to tread when not looking.  Her skills at destroying all that is beautiful in this little part of the world is unmatched, eg. water garden, fake lillies, hats, balls, Roger staffy's ears, food dishes - hers or not (OK, they're not particularly beautiful) and hats.  Megatron has a particular liking for socks; clean or dirty it does not matter.

Her interest in the cats has scored her many a scratch on the nose but she can't help herself.  Those furry little soft critters are just so mesmerising.  Dr Watson will chase her and Cous Cous will stand up to her so there is no danger to them beyond the pest aspect.

The latest and biggest problem with owning a puppy is the yard security - keeping her in. And this free puppy has cost a fortune in fencing materials.  The first fence was put up by professionals with apparently dog proof fencing - HUH!  Try again. 

We had some left over fencing wire so we moved it along the half-way mark to the last fencing installment (literally halving the space available to escape through) and the Lovely Husband and I spent many hours clamping it to the original fence.  We had just stood back and sighed with relief at our completed fencing when Megatron Destructopuppy stuck her head through the fence.  Oh how cute, she can get her head through, we smiled knowingly.  But then our smile was wiped completely away as a front leg followed, then another, her body twisting and turning, and then FLOP! She fell to ground on the outside of the fence.  We stood there, slack jawed and didn't know whether to cry or rant.  I think I swore profusely at this stage.  She is part snake or lizard or something. 

Fencing Part III:  The Lovely Husband bought some small gauge welded wire and again we clipped that to the original fence over many hours and again stood back to admire our hard work.  This time there was no way that part puppy, part snake was getting out.....sigh, finally she is locked up.

Megatron Destructopuppy, escapologist extraordinaire is contained.  We can relax in the knowledge she is not going visiting the neighbours and digging in their yards, destroying their hats and stealing their socks.  That fence willl stand for many a year and contain all manner of dogs big or small. We are able to relax on the back veranda, drink in hand and watch over all that is fenced.  Job well done, again.

Seagulls