Babies

Okay, I can't help myself. Here's a picture of my brand new, beautiful grandson at 6 days old!

Lucky me got to be there for Henry's newborn pictures, a very interesting process. The photographer reminded me of a Baby Whisperer. At any sign of fussing, she'd touch his face and make a breathy, whistling sound. Suddenly he'd become cooperative as could be.

As you may guess, Henry's Mama and Daddy like golf just the tiniest little bit.

Winston met Henry last week. Winston enthusiastically licked the top of Henry's head, but Henry didn't even open an eye. Perhaps someday they'll become the best of pals.

I like Henry. And snow. I also like snow.

Father and Mother Goose

We have a small lake behind our house which from time to time harbors various types of water fowl. These include Canadian geese, mallards, and herons. Although they aren't waterfowl, a few months ago a couple of eagles even stopped by for a brief fishing trip.

None are so cute, though, as the spring time brood of babies. This year we haven't seen any ducklings, but several families of geese have been strolling the area.

As you can see, my camera doesn't provide the best shots in photojournalism. If I only had a super duper fancy telephoto lens, these pictures would be ever so much clearer and closer. But what can I say? You work with what you've got.


Anyway, it's typical for either Father or Mother Goose to stand watch while the rest of the family feeds. Both parents are ferocious in their guard duties. They've been known to chase people who come near their babies without hesitation, hissing and biting all the way. I've been told that a bite from a goose feels a lot like being clamped by a pair of pliers. Ouch!

So would either Indy or Bogey consider trespassing on Goose territory?

"Only if you go first, Mom!"

My heroes.

Content Warning!

Warning: For certain Critter Alley readers, this post contains what could be viewed as provocative content!!!

A few weeks ago, I attended a large gathering of friends for a day of chatting, eating, liberal use of favorite beverages, and music.  We were gifted with perfect weather and a soft breeze that carried the tantalizing scent of smokey barbecue.

Two canines made an appearance at the party. Several of us sneaked them succulent morsels of food along with plenty of petting. Alas, poor Indy had to stay home.  He wasn't happy about it.

(Canine comments censored by blog administrator)

In the midst of the day's revelry, a friend called me over to see a miniature party guest, who had been snuggling in a warm shirt pocket. Now...hold on to your collars...this is what I saw:

A baby squirrel!

How did my friend get him/her? Apparently when folks from the Forestry Department cut down trees, they sometimes find these tiny critters nesting inside. Rather than leaving them to die, foster families are called upon to bottle feed the babies and care for them until they're ready to be released back into the wild. We took turns holding this little one.  It seemed calm and completely unafraid.

Forestry workers must have a heart as big as the trees they cut. Kudos to them for taking the time to look out for babies...no matter the species.

You may wonder why I was so enthralled. I've had my share of problems with squirrels in the past. They gnaw holes in my house, gobble up all the bird seed, and annoy me in general, so you'd think this discovery wouldn't particularly move me. But as I held the baby and stroked it's soft fur, I quickly went all mushy inside. 

Seriously...who can resist a face like this?