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<?xml-stylesheet type="text/xsl" media="screen" href="/~d/styles/atom10full.xsl"?><?xml-stylesheet type="text/css" media="screen" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~d/styles/itemcontent.css"?><feed xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearch/1.1/" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0" xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0" gd:etag="W/&quot;Ak4MQXk-eCp7ImA9WhRUGUU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8685402180262067476</id><updated>2012-01-30T21:49:40.750-08:00</updated><title>Blessed Little Creatures</title><subtitle type="html">The Mockingbird outside my window, the lizard creeping down the tree, the dog sleeping in my arms—every blessed little creature that I see inspires me and brings me joy. I've seen bold, beautiful male cardinals pluck tiny seeds from a dish and feed them to their children, and baby raccoons, smaller than house cats, wrestle, play, then kiss their mother on the nose. I watch, listen, photograph and marvel at these precious gifts from God, then I write about them here.</subtitle><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://blessedlittlecreatures.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://blessedlittlecreatures.blogspot.com/" /><link rel="next" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685402180262067476/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false&amp;v=2" /><author><name>Darla Sue Dollman</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/109178233717896374634</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh6.googleusercontent.com/-z1typ8qUiaY/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAuA/7tVweNHnOpw/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>151</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/BlessedLittleCreatures" /><feedburner:info uri="blessedlittlecreatures" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><feedburner:emailServiceId>BlessedLittleCreatures</feedburner:emailServiceId><feedburner:feedburnerHostname>http://feedburner.google.com</feedburner:feedburnerHostname><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUIDQXw4fyp7ImA9WhRUF0Q.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8685402180262067476.post-4629958604515453620</id><published>2012-01-28T15:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-28T15:32:50.237-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-28T15:32:50.237-08:00</app:edited><title>The Return of Mr. Thrasher</title><content type="html">I visit with the birds on the side of the house three or four times a day. It is my peace. I speak with them, toss them some seed, listen to their songs. Mrs. Thrasher and I have similar interests. She likes to sit on the side of the wall and watch the sparrows while Mr. Thrasher flies about the neighborhood. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
To be honest, I'm not sure if it's Mr. or Mrs., but I'm assuming it is Mrs. Thrasher sitting on the wall. The curve-billed thrasher is 10 to 12 inches long, generally slender though they puff up a bit when it's cold and breezy, with a long tail and a long, curved, sickle-shaped bill. It is grayish-brown on the wings with a lighter, slightly streaked body. Its tail is streaked with white and the sides of the tail are darker than its back. It has a deep orange or reddish-orange eye, as you may have noticed from the pictures I post to the right. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The curve-billed thrasher mates for life and both male and female work together to care for the nest and young. Thrashers lay two to four blue eggs, generally in spiny brush--which is where they live on the side of my house--or in cactus. They eat bugs and seeds, and we have plenty of both in my yard, but this time of year, it's mostly seeds that I provide. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
 One of the thrashers has been missing for a bit. It's possible I simply did not see him as I generally count the birds at the same time every day. Today, however, I counted in the morning, and he was there, which made me very happy!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
However, I noticed something interesting during my minor panic over Mr. Thrasher's possible disappearance. I went back through my photographs and noticed another bird, a bird that appears to be a curve-billed thrasher. There is something different about this bird, though. It's eyes are yellow, and its breast seems lighter. I think it's beak might also be straighter, which would mean it is either a juvenile curve-billed thrasher or a Bendire's thrasher, which is vulnerable to extinction. Either way, I need to do further documentation of the thrashers who live on the side of my house. My count is clearly off. I have three, not two. What I need is a better picture of the yellow-eyed bird! &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
As a special treat, I also had a visit from two great-tailed grackles--lovely!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8685402180262067476-4629958604515453620?l=blessedlittlecreatures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/CG8KlvSPIn5yERTXUFNsbm538KU/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/CG8KlvSPIn5yERTXUFNsbm538KU/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BlessedLittleCreatures/~4/4awrAcVyh6w" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://blessedlittlecreatures.blogspot.com/feeds/4629958604515453620/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8685402180262067476&amp;postID=4629958604515453620" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685402180262067476/posts/default/4629958604515453620?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685402180262067476/posts/default/4629958604515453620?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BlessedLittleCreatures/~3/4awrAcVyh6w/return-of-mr-thrasher.html" title="The Return of Mr. Thrasher" /><author><name>Darla Sue Dollman</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/109178233717896374634</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh6.googleusercontent.com/-z1typ8qUiaY/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAuA/7tVweNHnOpw/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://blessedlittlecreatures.blogspot.com/2012/01/return-of-mr-thrasher.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0QNRHg-eip7ImA9WhRVFkU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8685402180262067476.post-5653919958985551510</id><published>2012-01-15T19:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-15T19:43:15.652-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-15T19:43:15.652-08:00</app:edited><title>Wild Burro Protection League to Deliver Petition to Texas Governor Rick Perry</title><content type="html">On January 18, 2012, Marjorie Farabee will begin the Wild Burro Protection League Ride For Life  in an effort to save the last remaining herd of wild burros in Texas. The Ride for Life will take place in Austin, Texas where Farabee will deliver the 103,000 signatures and comments to Governor Rick Perry and Lt. Governor David Dewhurst at 1:00 PM. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Farabee will begin the ride at noon on the back of a small buckboard wagon pulled by a donkey named Miss Abby who has her own website, &lt;a href="http://www.donkeyscando.com/"&gt;Donkeys Can Do&lt;/a&gt;. The staging area will be at Rosewood Oaks, 1507 Lavaca Street in Austin, next to the Capitol Grounds Complex. She will then travel up Lavaca Street, turn left on 16th and right on Congress, and to the South side of the Capitol building. At that time, Marjorie Farabee will disembark from the buckboard, and walk to the north entrance to deliver the petition.  &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
In the meantime, other supporters of the cause to save the wild burros will speak to those interested about what is happening to the last herd of wild burros in Texas, as well as other wildlife located in Big Bend Ranch State Park. For more information, visit Miss Abby's &lt;a href="http://www.donkeyscando.com/"&gt;website&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8685402180262067476-5653919958985551510?l=blessedlittlecreatures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/OvFEfIxk2CFnF2tV0na4D0Mu-k8/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/OvFEfIxk2CFnF2tV0na4D0Mu-k8/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BlessedLittleCreatures/~4/hzqTB5W_4QA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://blessedlittlecreatures.blogspot.com/feeds/5653919958985551510/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8685402180262067476&amp;postID=5653919958985551510" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685402180262067476/posts/default/5653919958985551510?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685402180262067476/posts/default/5653919958985551510?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BlessedLittleCreatures/~3/hzqTB5W_4QA/wild-burro-protection-league-to-deliver.html" title="Wild Burro Protection League to Deliver Petition to Texas Governor Rick Perry" /><author><name>Darla Sue Dollman</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/109178233717896374634</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh6.googleusercontent.com/-z1typ8qUiaY/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAuA/7tVweNHnOpw/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://blessedlittlecreatures.blogspot.com/2012/01/wild-burro-protection-league-to-deliver.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEEHQn88eSp7ImA9WhRVEks.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8685402180262067476.post-3510256233660441935</id><published>2012-01-10T23:23:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-10T23:23:53.171-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-10T23:23:53.171-08:00</app:edited><title>Little Bird with Deformed Beak</title><content type="html">There is a little sparrow that lives in the shrub with the thrashers. The rest of the sparrows sleep in the evergreens in the arroyo at night, but this blessed little creature lives in the shrub that tumbles over the wall around our property. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I suspected something was wrong with her when I realized she would not leave the shrub. When the cat follows me outside, the little bird hops deeper into the shrub. I was watching her this evening and when she turned her head, it appeared as if she was missing an eye. I took some pictures--she actually has a misformed beak, which makes her eye set in a bit. I'm not sure if she can see out of it properly. I'm also not sure if she was born this way, or if it's an injury, but I believe she needs some prayer, and perhaps a little more protection from the cat--no more cat following me outside!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8685402180262067476-3510256233660441935?l=blessedlittlecreatures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/SrZny6dSnPN3QD7k8MeB_HWIxwE/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/SrZny6dSnPN3QD7k8MeB_HWIxwE/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BlessedLittleCreatures/~4/0KHMxBpQ2Ec" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://blessedlittlecreatures.blogspot.com/feeds/3510256233660441935/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8685402180262067476&amp;postID=3510256233660441935" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685402180262067476/posts/default/3510256233660441935?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685402180262067476/posts/default/3510256233660441935?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BlessedLittleCreatures/~3/0KHMxBpQ2Ec/little-bird-with-deformed-beak.html" title="Little Bird with Deformed Beak" /><author><name>Darla Sue Dollman</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/109178233717896374634</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh6.googleusercontent.com/-z1typ8qUiaY/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAuA/7tVweNHnOpw/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://blessedlittlecreatures.blogspot.com/2012/01/little-bird-with-deformed-beak.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkcCQnY4eCp7ImA9WhRVEk8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8685402180262067476.post-2306158894268010792</id><published>2012-01-10T12:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-10T12:41:03.830-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-10T12:41:03.830-08:00</app:edited><title>Sun Pillars and Thrashers</title><content type="html">I was photographing the sunset last night and a sun pillar appeared. A sun pillar is vertical streaks of light above a low sun shining through ice crystal clouds, similar to glitter paths on the surface of a lake or ocean. It is brightest when the sun is just below the horizon. When a sun pillar occurs at night, it is called...a moon pillar, of course!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It was still light outside, so I walked over to the wall on the side of the house to talk to the thrashers. There is a mated pair of thrashers living in the shrub that creeps over the wall and divides our property from the property next door. The thrasher couple mixes amicably with the finches, sparrows and doves that flutter around our yard, but at night, when the smaller birds fly into the thick evergreens in the arroyo for extra protection from predators, the thrashers sit on the wall, waiting to talk to me. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This time, however, the dogs were with me. Mrs. Thrasher did not like this at all. She looked at me, then down at the dogs, then back at me, then down at the dogs. At one point, I thought she might attack them, so I told the dogs to go back inside. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The days are growing warmer and the little birds seem to be hovering around interesting places, like the garden shed, and my grandchildren's playhouse. I suspect they are looking for nesting sites. They like the smiling sun that hangs on the playhouse. The sun's mouths is open and the space is perfect for a small nest. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I love nesting season, listening to the birds call to their mates, watching them dart back and forth from the plants to their nests, capturing bugs, feeding their young. God has blessed our home with these little creatures, and they are marvelous.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8685402180262067476-2306158894268010792?l=blessedlittlecreatures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/_OojnhBYwAMygvjaFrvKwbGFukw/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/_OojnhBYwAMygvjaFrvKwbGFukw/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BlessedLittleCreatures/~4/8QnDfA8DXmw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://blessedlittlecreatures.blogspot.com/feeds/2306158894268010792/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8685402180262067476&amp;postID=2306158894268010792" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685402180262067476/posts/default/2306158894268010792?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685402180262067476/posts/default/2306158894268010792?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BlessedLittleCreatures/~3/8QnDfA8DXmw/sun-pillars-and-thrashers.html" title="Sun Pillars and Thrashers" /><author><name>Darla Sue Dollman</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/109178233717896374634</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh6.googleusercontent.com/-z1typ8qUiaY/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAuA/7tVweNHnOpw/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://blessedlittlecreatures.blogspot.com/2012/01/sun-pillars-and-thrashers.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkANR3o9eCp7ImA9WhRWGUQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8685402180262067476.post-9169939096177215333</id><published>2012-01-03T22:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-07T20:59:56.460-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-07T20:59:56.460-08:00</app:edited><title>Fun at the Albuquerque BioPark</title><content type="html">It's been a busy month. My grandchildren were visiting and we spent some time at the Albuquerque BioPark. &lt;a href="http://www.cabq.gov/biopark"&gt;The BioPark&lt;/a&gt;, located next to the Rio Grande River, was founded in 1927 and includes the Rio Grande Zoo, Tingley Beach, the Botanic Garden and the aquarium. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We spent the day at the BioPark, which is easy to do as there is so much to see! We started at the zoo, then moved to the aquarium and ended the evening with the River of Lights display--400 light displays on the river. The River of Lights is visited by 90,000 people each year. I think they were all there the night we went, too--it was packed!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Although I prefer to see animals flying free, I am always reminded of the importance of zoos when I read the life expectancy information on the cards in front of the animal displays. Most of the time, the life expectancy of animals is doubled in captivity due to a lack of predators. Unfortunately, humans are almost always the number one predator of wild animals. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
One of my favorite displays at the zoo was the golden eagle. He reminded me of the pair of golden eagles that used to fly over our house when we lived in Wellington, Colorado. We had 35 acres and they returned to the hills each year to raise their fledgling. When they fly between you and the sun, you can see the sunlight through their wings and their wings glow like flourescent gold. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I also enjoyed the polar bears. They were awake, rolling around, being playful and noisy. One of the bears kept making strange noises. I had the impression he was bored. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
When we went to the lion enclosure, we heard a loud, rhythmis roaring, but we didn't see any lions. A woman standing nearby jokingly said it sounded like a tape recording--and it did! Then the roaring stopped. "They're rewinding the tape," she said, and we laughed and started to walk away. A minute later she called out to me. "He's out!" She said. "It really is a lion! He's walking around, roaring!" Sure enough, the lion walked around the enclosure, scratched his head on a post, went back inside and started to roar again!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8685402180262067476-9169939096177215333?l=blessedlittlecreatures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/6TudVlegpnXWn3wKCgsNqN2WBEI/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/6TudVlegpnXWn3wKCgsNqN2WBEI/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BlessedLittleCreatures/~4/TYVLQQ5Bgqg" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://blessedlittlecreatures.blogspot.com/feeds/9169939096177215333/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8685402180262067476&amp;postID=9169939096177215333" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685402180262067476/posts/default/9169939096177215333?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685402180262067476/posts/default/9169939096177215333?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BlessedLittleCreatures/~3/TYVLQQ5Bgqg/fun-at-albuquerque-biopark.html" title="Fun at the Albuquerque BioPark" /><author><name>Darla Sue Dollman</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/109178233717896374634</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh6.googleusercontent.com/-z1typ8qUiaY/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAuA/7tVweNHnOpw/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://blessedlittlecreatures.blogspot.com/2012/01/fun-at-albuquerque-biopark.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Dk4FQHY-eSp7ImA9WhRXE0s.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8685402180262067476.post-2653230472410854215</id><published>2011-12-19T23:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-19T23:08:31.851-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-19T23:08:31.851-08:00</app:edited><title>Blizzard!</title><content type="html">The weather forecast called for rain, but it's been snowing since before I woke up this morning. I should have known there was snow on the ground! &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My husband wakes up very early. When he lets the chocolate labs out to do their morning duty, he usually comes back into the bedroom and reaches beneath the woolen blankets I pile up on my feet to fetch the chihuahua. Chewy the chihuahua likes to roll himself into a blanket ball in the middle of the night. This morning, when my husband tried to unravel the chihuahua to take him outside, Chewy refused to go! &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Around four this afternoon, I realized Chewy had spent the entire day in bed. I came into the bedroom and asked if he intended to get up today. He looked over his shoulder, out the window, at the snow, as you can see in the pictures to the right, then he looked back at me, but didn't move from the bed. He spent the entire day beneath the covers. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I fed the birds four times today. They seem to eat twice as much when it's cold outside. There was a small flock of doves on the patio table when I walked outside. Their lovely slate gray wings contrasted beautifully with the falling snow and when they fluttered up and off the porch it was like watching a living painting in an artist's gallery. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We have new birds in the tree/shrub beside the house. At first, I only noticed one mated pair, but now there are six or more each day. The males have reddish-brown bodies and their tails appear to have a deep blue color. The females are brownish-gray. The males also have black and white striped wings--quite a colorful combination! The females have the same stripes, but the stripes are on their heads. I've never seen anything like them, but I started volunteering for a Nature Watch program and I plan to participate in this year's Great Backyard Bird Count, so I need to identify the birds soon. Unfortunately, they are not as friendly with me as the other birds and fly away before I can get a focused picture. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
There is a hierarchy on the back wall, too. There are two varieties of sparrows that live in the shrub. One is the common house sparrow and I haven't identified the others yet. The new birds with the stripes are slightly larger and the sparrows move away from the dish when the striped birds arrive. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The thrashers are larger than the striped birds and a bit pushy. They're not greedy. They will wait for the other birds to eat, but when they think the seed dish is getting low, they fly into the flock and chase the other birds off so they can have their turn at the seeds. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The doves, of course, are much too large for the seed dish on the wall or the feeders hanging from the porch. They can only eat from the dish on the table and the other birds leave that dish for the doves. It's a nice little community. No one ever fights, they just know when it's time to share, and when they need to get out of the way to avoid a mid-air collision with a larger bird!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8685402180262067476-2653230472410854215?l=blessedlittlecreatures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/UgKBsUDX410CReHF1CkSiEH_sL4/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/UgKBsUDX410CReHF1CkSiEH_sL4/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BlessedLittleCreatures/~4/PJXocNpXhTI" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://blessedlittlecreatures.blogspot.com/feeds/2653230472410854215/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8685402180262067476&amp;postID=2653230472410854215" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685402180262067476/posts/default/2653230472410854215?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685402180262067476/posts/default/2653230472410854215?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BlessedLittleCreatures/~3/PJXocNpXhTI/blizzard.html" title="Blizzard!" /><author><name>Darla Sue Dollman</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/109178233717896374634</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh6.googleusercontent.com/-z1typ8qUiaY/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAuA/7tVweNHnOpw/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://blessedlittlecreatures.blogspot.com/2011/12/blizzard.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkcBQ3c-eip7ImA9WhRQGEQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8685402180262067476.post-2374510960360990937</id><published>2011-12-14T00:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-14T12:20:52.952-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-14T12:20:52.952-08:00</app:edited><title>Careful Training or Animal Abuse?</title><content type="html">I had an interesting online conversation this evening about a video that shows a man riding his bicycle while his dogs run behind him on busy trails and roads. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
At first, I thought it was a fun video that showed a man who worked hard to train his dogs and gave them a tremendous amount of attention, affection, and love. My friend thought it showed a man who took too many risks with his dogs, risks that could potentially lead to their deaths.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
At first, I defended the man in the video, believing he proved his experience and expertise in dog training through the behavior of his dogs, then I realized my friend made a valid point, the man did take risks, too many risks. At any time, one of the many dogs in the video could have suddenly changed its mind and decided to break free from its trainer and dart out into the road.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I have always believed that when I take an animal into my home I am completely responsible for all aspects of that animal's welfare. Training animals is important, but taking them out in public and deliberately placing them in risky situations to show how well they are trained is a selfish act that can only go one of two ways--either the animal will perform as he or she has been trained to perform, or the animal will not, and will become injured, or killed. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The discussion was about domestic animals, but in a way, this applies to wild animals, as well. There are many companies that will allow students to pose with trained "big cats" for photos. A 17 year old &lt;a href="http://articles.nydailynews.com/2005-08-20/news/18319206_1_siberian-tiger-killed-sets"&gt;high school student from Kansas was killed&lt;/a&gt; by a Siberian Tiger in 2005 at a ranch where tigers, lions and bears are trained for Hollywood films, but for many years, this same ranch allowed students to pose with the animals for photos. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The trainer may very well be an expert in his field with many years of experience, but I suspect he took too many risks with the animals, endangering both the animals and the students who posed with the animals through his pride in his own abilities. Animals on a film set in tightly controlled conditions obviously behave completely differently than they do in the privacy of their own homes--their cages--when strangers are introduced for brief periods of time. I could see this as a situation similar to when a dog is in a car and someone reaches through an open window to pet the dog. The dog will feel as if the stranger is trying to enter his or her home. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The question is not how good the trainer is, or how well the animal is trained. The question is, is this fair to the animal, or the trusting humans? In a way, it could be seen as cruel. The animal did not agree to have strangers paraded through his or her home, to be used as a fashion model and posed like a doll. Wild animals are...wild!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
In October of 2011, Zanesville, Ohio experienced a night of terror that seemed to be taken right out of a horror film as more than 50 lions, tigers, and other wild animals were destroyed after the owner of a wild animal farm, Terry Thompson, released the animals from their cages then committed suicide. Before he died, he cut the gates so the animals could not be caught and returned to their cages. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Why he released the animals is a mystery. If he truly loved the animals, why would he do something so cruel? Surely he knew the animals would be destroyed! Apparently, he was experiencing legal problems because the animals kept escaping. So he solved his problem through the most extreme act of selfishness and at a great loss to the worldwide community of big cats. Many of these cats were on the endangered species list. The surviving animals were taken to the Columbus, Ohio zoo. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The big question, though, is why he had the animals in the first place. Thompson did not display or show the animals. They were not trained for use in films. He kept hundreds of wild animals on his ranch in the middle of town for no explainable reason other than that he enjoyed wild animals. If he loved wild animals so much, why would he keep them in cages, then release them without protection of any kind? &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
According to an article in &lt;a href="http://www.usatoday.com/news/nation/story/2011-10-18/exotic-animals-loose-ohio/50821092/1"&gt;USA Today,&lt;/a&gt; the Humane Society of the United States has documented 22 incidents with dangerous exotic animals in Ohio since 2003. Why is this allowed to happen? If a person truly loves animals, they do not take this kind of risk, keeping hundreds of wild animals in cages in the middle of town without trained zookeepers to supervise their health and living conditions. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
There is a similar situation going on in the United States with snakes that are used as props in birthday parties, in traveling shows, and tortured and killed in rattlesnake roundups. There is little, if any, concern for the welfare of the snakes according to animal activists like Matt Ellerbeck who is &lt;a href="http://darla-sue-dollman.suite101.com/matt-ellerbeck-fighting-for-the-rights-of-snakes-a394013"&gt;fighting for the rights&lt;/a&gt; of these animals. Considering most snake bites occur when snakes are handled, there seems to be an equal lack of concern for the welfare of the humans involved. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
What does seem obvious is that there is a lack of concern for the rights of animals in all of these cases, particularly their right to be protected from the greatest threat, the greatest predator that animals face--humans.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Edited to add: For more information regarding the work of animal rights activist Matt Ellerbeck, please visit his website&lt;a href="http://www.the-snake-man.com/"&gt; here.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8685402180262067476-2374510960360990937?l=blessedlittlecreatures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/9XDAOBDio-c3KSQUsfQtSlWvgfY/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/9XDAOBDio-c3KSQUsfQtSlWvgfY/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BlessedLittleCreatures/~4/00_8lq7st4Y" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://blessedlittlecreatures.blogspot.com/feeds/2374510960360990937/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8685402180262067476&amp;postID=2374510960360990937" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685402180262067476/posts/default/2374510960360990937?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685402180262067476/posts/default/2374510960360990937?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BlessedLittleCreatures/~3/00_8lq7st4Y/careful-training-or-animal-abuse.html" title="Careful Training or Animal Abuse?" /><author><name>Darla Sue Dollman</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/109178233717896374634</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh6.googleusercontent.com/-z1typ8qUiaY/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAuA/7tVweNHnOpw/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://blessedlittlecreatures.blogspot.com/2011/12/careful-training-or-animal-abuse.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A08BRX44fip7ImA9WhRQEk4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8685402180262067476.post-8372095069084844502</id><published>2011-12-06T22:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-06T22:37:34.036-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-06T22:37:34.036-08:00</app:edited><title>Chilly Birds and Aliens</title><content type="html">It has been so cold in New Mexico! We had a cold front move down from Colorado and another slide over from Arizona. The storm moving in from the east was the blackest storm I've ever seen. The two storms combined and now it is literally freezing! It was ten degrees below zero last night according to the outdoor thermostat.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I've been leaving extra seeds for the birds. I thought they would need to bulk up to handle the cold weather. When it's snowing, they fluff their feathers up so they look like little feather balls! I wish they would fly into the garden shed on cold nights, but I'm sure the hawks in the neighborhood are making the same wish. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We've seen new birds here, too. Tiny birds with black wings and tan heads, doves with different markings, and a reddish-brown hawk watching the house from the street lamp nearby. The hawk flew past the kitchen window yesterday at dusk. I haven't been able to get a close enough look to identify him. It's so difficult, knowing he is hunting in my back yard, but it's all part of God's plan and I'm glad that he, too, can find food. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I've identified the large birds with the orange eyes. They are thrashers. They can mimic sounds, like mockingbirds and catbirds. There are also grey catbirds in this area. They can imitate the sounds of cats.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Last night, we heard a strange sound in front of the house, like a loud purring sound. We thought it might be birds, but it was so dark outside and birds don't usually fly at night, unless they are owls. The sound moved into the backyard and we didn't see any birds flying overhead. It was so loud, all of the dogs in the neighborhood were barking. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I took an informal poll of my friends and they decided the creature was either a mountain lion, catbirds, Bigfoot, or aliens.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8685402180262067476-8372095069084844502?l=blessedlittlecreatures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/38C1DLG6V-BF0jV_kiwxejj1e6g/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/38C1DLG6V-BF0jV_kiwxejj1e6g/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BlessedLittleCreatures/~4/cnM6HBrTHaw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://blessedlittlecreatures.blogspot.com/feeds/8372095069084844502/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8685402180262067476&amp;postID=8372095069084844502" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685402180262067476/posts/default/8372095069084844502?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685402180262067476/posts/default/8372095069084844502?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BlessedLittleCreatures/~3/cnM6HBrTHaw/chilly-birds-and-aliens.html" title="Chilly Birds and Aliens" /><author><name>Darla Sue Dollman</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/109178233717896374634</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh6.googleusercontent.com/-z1typ8qUiaY/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAuA/7tVweNHnOpw/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://blessedlittlecreatures.blogspot.com/2011/12/chilly-birds-and-aliens.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D08MRns4fCp7ImA9WhRREkk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8685402180262067476.post-5640091810026826282</id><published>2011-11-25T10:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-25T10:31:27.534-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-11-25T10:31:27.534-08:00</app:edited><title>Chickadees, Vultures, Doves, and the Love of Birds</title><content type="html">"We learned to be patient observers like the owl. We learned cleverness from the crow, and courage from the jay, who will attack an owl ten times its size to drive it off its territory. But above all of them ranked the chickadee because of its indomitable spirit." -Tom Brown, Jr., The Tracker (Quote found on &lt;a href="http://www.legendsofamerica.com/na-quotes.html"&gt;Legends of America.com&lt;/a&gt;) &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I read this quote and an image began to form in my mind of the little black-capped chickadees in my backyard in Texas, hopping from branch to branch, sometimes clinging to the bark, sometimes brushing against the colorful leaves that spiraled to the ground as the chickadees danced. When I stepped through the back door, that was the first sound to greet me--the sound of the playful, life-loving chickadees. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I remember watching the black vultures that lived in the forest behind my house in Kingsland, Texas. Every night, I would climb a ladder to the roof of the house to photograph the spectacular Texas sunset for my friends and family, and every night, a mated pair of black vultures flew out of the forest, gliding over the roof of my house so close to my head I could feel the beat of their wings in the passing air, then landing on a nearby utility post where they would face the setting sun, sometimes snuggling close to each other, watching, as I watched. When the sun was down, and I started back down the ladder, the vultures would return to the forest behind my house. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Last night, as I watched a flock of white winged doves in the backyard of my house in New Mexico, I noticed they, too, turned to watch the setting sun. I filled the bird trays with seed a few minutes earlier, and they hovered over the trays, fluttering up and down, trying to find the best access to the seed, and yet, so patient with their family and friends. Then, when the sun moved lower in the sky and the Sandia Mountains turned their classic shade of pink, the birds turned to watch. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Sometimes I feel as if these birds are speaking to me in their songs and their behavior. I feel as if they are teaching me, reminding me to slow down and watch the sun rise, and the sun set, and appreciate its beauty. They're telling me to listen to the wind in the trees and let that be my music. They are telling me to dance, wild and free, among the leaves of the trees as they fall to the ground. They are telling me to enjoy life while I can, and I am listening.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8685402180262067476-5640091810026826282?l=blessedlittlecreatures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/020hMm2d5IUvV1VKWcKW1LenlHY/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/020hMm2d5IUvV1VKWcKW1LenlHY/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BlessedLittleCreatures/~4/mKFQr7-uSH8" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://blessedlittlecreatures.blogspot.com/feeds/5640091810026826282/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8685402180262067476&amp;postID=5640091810026826282" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685402180262067476/posts/default/5640091810026826282?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685402180262067476/posts/default/5640091810026826282?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BlessedLittleCreatures/~3/mKFQr7-uSH8/chickadees-vultures-doves-and-love-of.html" title="Chickadees, Vultures, Doves, and the Love of Birds" /><author><name>Darla Sue Dollman</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/109178233717896374634</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh6.googleusercontent.com/-z1typ8qUiaY/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAuA/7tVweNHnOpw/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://blessedlittlecreatures.blogspot.com/2011/11/chickadees-vultures-doves-and-love-of.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkEGRXk5eip7ImA9WhRSGU4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8685402180262067476.post-6494894448195414861</id><published>2011-11-21T21:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-21T21:10:24.722-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-11-21T21:10:24.722-08:00</app:edited><title>Storm Warning</title><content type="html">There was a storm warning today and I watched the clouds all afternoon as they rolled back onto themselves above the mountains then slowly spread like a blanket over the valley. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I knew there was a storm coming from the behavior of the birds. Early this morning, they started hovering around the food dishes. When there is a change in the weather, the birds eat more food, as if they're stocking up on energy to cope with the cold air. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Then the rain came. It was a light rain, most likely due to the fierce winds that rattled across the roof and made the windows tremble. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The little sparrows flew into the shrub tree on the side of the house, but they did not perch on top like they usually do during the day. Instead, they hid inside the branches. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I watched them through the kitchen window as I cleaned house. They took turns poking their little heads out between the leaves to check and see if the rain had stopped. They avoided the section facing the backyard as the wind would have hit them hard on their tiny faces. Instead, they peeked out through the leaves that face the side of the house where they have more shelter from the cold. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
When evening came, the winds slowed to a stop, but the clouds remained, hovering over the mountains, above our house, and to the west. In Rio Rancho, when the sun sets, it's generally gold and orange to the west where the sun goes down, shades of gray and purple to the north and south, with pink shades on the mountains.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
When I took the dogs out, the two large birds were standing near the food dish, waiting for their late-night snack.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8685402180262067476-6494894448195414861?l=blessedlittlecreatures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/yWKs4wXaMtuLxFlSQyZsIM_MYgo/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/yWKs4wXaMtuLxFlSQyZsIM_MYgo/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BlessedLittleCreatures/~4/UnqzJLkYm3A" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://blessedlittlecreatures.blogspot.com/feeds/6494894448195414861/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8685402180262067476&amp;postID=6494894448195414861" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685402180262067476/posts/default/6494894448195414861?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685402180262067476/posts/default/6494894448195414861?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BlessedLittleCreatures/~3/UnqzJLkYm3A/storm-warning.html" title="Storm Warning" /><author><name>Darla Sue Dollman</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/109178233717896374634</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh6.googleusercontent.com/-z1typ8qUiaY/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAuA/7tVweNHnOpw/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://blessedlittlecreatures.blogspot.com/2011/11/storm-warning.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEUFRHo_fip7ImA9WhRSGUw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8685402180262067476.post-3879085967720110039</id><published>2011-11-20T21:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-21T14:56:55.446-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-11-21T14:56:55.446-08:00</app:edited><title>The Big Birds!</title><content type="html">There is a pair of big birds living outside our back door. They're not as large as crows. They are about the size of grackles. They have orange eyes, hooked beaks, and...they like me!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
These two birds are interesting in the way they communicate with me. When the seed dish is empty, and they see me walk outside, they will hop from tree, to chair back, to table top, following me as I move through the yard until I realize they are hungry and fetch some food.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
They also interest me because they are obviously a mated pair, are openly affectionate toward each other in ways that I haven't seen since I studied the black vultures in Texas. They also occasionally bicker. They get along well with the sparrows. In fact, I believe they all live together in the same bushy tree on the side of my house.  &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
A few days ago, I went outside to photograph the sunset and noticed that one of the big birds was sitting in the empty bird feeder next to my head, staring off to the east as if watching the sun set with me. (In Rio Rancho, we watch the sun set to the east because the setting sun turns the mountains pink.) &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Tonight, the big bird couple were sitting beside the seed dish waiting for me. I would like to find out what kind of birds they are, but for now, the title of big birds will do. Or, I could call them Joe and Martha. I have a feeling they will respond to anything I call them as long as I bring them seed!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Update: Since my husband does not believe she looks like a Martha, she will now be named Jill. Joe and Jill. Nice.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8685402180262067476-3879085967720110039?l=blessedlittlecreatures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/guV6vAw_JhUIiSzi1GLvcJJDypI/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/guV6vAw_JhUIiSzi1GLvcJJDypI/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BlessedLittleCreatures/~4/tkSP7uxsjyw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://blessedlittlecreatures.blogspot.com/feeds/3879085967720110039/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8685402180262067476&amp;postID=3879085967720110039" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685402180262067476/posts/default/3879085967720110039?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685402180262067476/posts/default/3879085967720110039?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BlessedLittleCreatures/~3/tkSP7uxsjyw/big-birds.html" title="The Big Birds!" /><author><name>Darla Sue Dollman</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/109178233717896374634</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh6.googleusercontent.com/-z1typ8qUiaY/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAuA/7tVweNHnOpw/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://blessedlittlecreatures.blogspot.com/2011/11/big-birds.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEUNQng7fip7ImA9WhRTGUo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8685402180262067476.post-3882042504011506192</id><published>2011-11-10T17:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-10T17:51:33.606-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-11-10T17:51:33.606-08:00</app:edited><title>Little Sparrows</title><content type="html">I am so thrilled to have a flock of sparrows in my tree. It's more like a shrub that climbs the brick wall around the property. It's the perfect height--six feet. Chewy can jump up and down as much as he wants, but he can't reach them. The chocolate twins know better than to harm other creatures now. They're older. The cat got out a few nights ago, though. He's the oldest of the bunch, and they all know it. They show him the respect he deserves. When it comes to hunting, though, he's still a kitten. He obviously caught something in the dark. I won't go into detail.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
These sparrows in the shrub beside my back door are suburban birds. They're not as shy as the birds in Texas. The birds in Texas came out of the forest, though many of the birds were born in nests in our garage. The birds in New Mexico will sit on the fence and on top of the shrub, waiting for me to fill the food dish with seed. They are even closer to the house than the flock in Texas was, but they are comfortable, which is a good thing. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Sometimes the sparrows chatter like the little birds in Texas, but it's a bit colder here, and most of the time they sit and stare at me, the dogs, and each other, their feathers fluffed up so they look like little balls on top of leaves. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
There is something magical about watching birds hop around each other, look at each other, chatter to each other. Sometimes, you can almost understand what they are saying, especially when they are paired with a mate. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This morning, I watched a male eating in the seed dish while the female waited patiently on the rock wall, then suddenly he turned and looked right at her and made a quick, soft sound. He jumped to the opposite side of the brick leaving a space for her to join him. She hopped onto the brick and they ate their breakfast together.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8685402180262067476-3882042504011506192?l=blessedlittlecreatures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/7leklKpYFK8OO5WAeUDE3I0bArQ/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/7leklKpYFK8OO5WAeUDE3I0bArQ/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BlessedLittleCreatures/~4/7vwaDvrYtW4" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://blessedlittlecreatures.blogspot.com/feeds/3882042504011506192/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8685402180262067476&amp;postID=3882042504011506192" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685402180262067476/posts/default/3882042504011506192?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685402180262067476/posts/default/3882042504011506192?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BlessedLittleCreatures/~3/7vwaDvrYtW4/little-sparrows.html" title="Little Sparrows" /><author><name>Darla Sue Dollman</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/109178233717896374634</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh6.googleusercontent.com/-z1typ8qUiaY/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAuA/7tVweNHnOpw/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://blessedlittlecreatures.blogspot.com/2011/11/little-sparrows.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0QMSX88cCp7ImA9WhRTF0w.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8685402180262067476.post-4723697027702248102</id><published>2011-11-07T18:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-07T18:29:48.178-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-11-07T18:29:48.178-08:00</app:edited><title>New Mexico</title><content type="html">I am in my new home in New Mexico, and in the tree in the backyard there is a small flock of house sparrows, just like in my house in Kingsland. I feed them from a dish on the brick wall around our property--in this area of New Mexico, everyone has brick walls around their properties instead of fences. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The parking lots are filled with grackles chattering endlessly as they do in Texas. They come to our house, too. Sometimes I see them hopping about on the brick walls, eating from the food dish.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The day we arrived, as we were unpacking, I heard a crow calling from far away. I stood in the driveway, waiting. It came closer and eventually flew over our house then flew in a circle around the rooftop, calling out once more before flying to the neighbor's roof where it landed, watching me work. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The view from my back porch is breathtaking. Every night, at sunset, for five or ten minutes, the mountains turn pink or red, depending on the season. This is one of my favorite memories of my earlier life here with my children when they were babies--standing on our back porch, my children in my arms as we watched the mountains turn pink. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We also stood in the yard and watched the hot air balloons pass overhead. This is where the balloons float by during the Albuquerque Balloon Fiesta, and the balloons fly over all year long when the weather is good. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Yesterday, I was typing in my room when I heard what sounded like a giant breathing, and I knew it was the balloons. I ran outside with the dogs and we watched together, staring up at the sky as six balloons floated over the house.  &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Tonight it was raining, and there was a sunset in front of the mountains, but they still turned pink. It looked like Christmas.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8685402180262067476-4723697027702248102?l=blessedlittlecreatures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/FWz-X6oXD6zbO_YoOks0CxjuodE/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/FWz-X6oXD6zbO_YoOks0CxjuodE/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BlessedLittleCreatures/~4/zE1vcVOhc6c" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://blessedlittlecreatures.blogspot.com/feeds/4723697027702248102/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8685402180262067476&amp;postID=4723697027702248102" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685402180262067476/posts/default/4723697027702248102?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685402180262067476/posts/default/4723697027702248102?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BlessedLittleCreatures/~3/zE1vcVOhc6c/new-mexico.html" title="New Mexico" /><author><name>Darla Sue Dollman</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/109178233717896374634</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh6.googleusercontent.com/-z1typ8qUiaY/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAuA/7tVweNHnOpw/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://blessedlittlecreatures.blogspot.com/2011/11/new-mexico.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0EFRnszeCp7ImA9WhdUGU8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8685402180262067476.post-3066196806272971747</id><published>2011-10-06T11:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-06T11:26:57.580-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-10-06T11:26:57.580-07:00</app:edited><title>Sumatran Tiger Update--Four cubs born at the Oklahoma City Zoo!</title><content type="html">Baby tigers! Yes, it's true. The critically endangered Sumatran Tiger population--less then 300 survivors worldwide--has four new babies to add to the count. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The litter of cubs was born on July 9, 2011 at the Oklahoma City Zoo to proud parents Suriya and Raguno. Three girls and a boy, named Leeloo, Lola, Lucy and Leonidas. Congratulations Suriya and Raguno!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Sumatran Tigers are only found on the Indonesian Island of Sumatra and their numbers have reduced drastically due to shrinking habitat resulting in contact with local villagers and illegal poaching. The World Wildlife Fund has a petition you can sign online to encourage the Indonesian government to stop habitat destruction and help save the Sumatran tigers. If you are interested in helping these magnificent creatures, the petitions is here: &lt;a href="https://secure2.convio.net/wwf/site/Advocacy?cmd=display&amp;page=UserAction&amp;id=445"&gt;Sumatran Tiger.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8685402180262067476-3066196806272971747?l=blessedlittlecreatures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/FrIqRAVjHsJUWTNA_G07s7Ug0w0/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/FrIqRAVjHsJUWTNA_G07s7Ug0w0/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BlessedLittleCreatures/~4/s5F7JaOPDWs" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://blessedlittlecreatures.blogspot.com/feeds/3066196806272971747/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8685402180262067476&amp;postID=3066196806272971747" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685402180262067476/posts/default/3066196806272971747?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685402180262067476/posts/default/3066196806272971747?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BlessedLittleCreatures/~3/s5F7JaOPDWs/sumatran-tiger-update-babies.html" title="Sumatran Tiger Update--Four cubs born at the Oklahoma City Zoo!" /><author><name>Darla Sue Dollman</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/109178233717896374634</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh6.googleusercontent.com/-z1typ8qUiaY/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAuA/7tVweNHnOpw/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://blessedlittlecreatures.blogspot.com/2011/10/sumatran-tiger-update-babies.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEIGQnk-eSp7ImA9WhdVGU8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8685402180262067476.post-4355739222298154798</id><published>2011-09-24T20:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-24T20:48:43.751-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-09-24T20:48:43.751-07:00</app:edited><title>The Vulture Tree</title><content type="html">Last week, we were in Utah near St. George and Bryce and Zion National Parks. There are a few small towns in this area nestled in a valley surrounded by mountains painted with various shades of red and orange. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I was thrilled to find my familiar friends--lizards, Grackles, and vultures--as well as a new little creature that I still have not identified. It is a small rodent, as small as a chipmunk, but the head looks more like a rat. It's tail flips up over its back. It is very fast and the only pictures I was able to snap off are blurry as it is also exceptionally fast! &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We were driving down a side street when I noticed one of the largest venues of vultures I have ever seen. This is one close, happy family! As they slowly circled around the sky, enjoying their play on the warm currents of air, I counted 90 before I lost track. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Then they started to land, one by one. As they flew lower, I could see that they were &lt;a href="http://darla-sue-dollman.suite101.com/turkey-vultures-facts-and-fallacies-about-the-migrating-raptors-a276406"&gt;Turkey Vultures&lt;/a&gt; (Cathartes aura). Turkey Vultures can be found from Canada to South America. Although Turkey Vultures will join with Black Vultures or other scavengers, and allow scavengers to join their families, this family in Utah appeared to be only Turkey Vultures. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I was with my husband, who was driving. We assumed they were landing in a field of dead trees, so we followed in our truck. Their path led us into a residential area, down a few side streets, and in front of a house where a huge, old tree stood on the corner of a property. It was not a dead tree, which is generally preferred by vultures, most likely because of the size of their wings--with a six-foot wing spread it is certainly easier to land on a bare branch. The tree must be hundreds of years old. Five adults, holding hands, might be able to circle its trunk. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We parked the truck and I jumped out with my camera, watching as the vultures circled around and landed, one by one, inside the tree. It was difficult to see them all because of the thick blanket of leaves, but the first ones to fly in landed on the top branches and politely posed for photographs, sometimes spreading their wings wide. Vultures will do this after they have eaten so the sun bakes the flecks of food left on their wings and the food drops to the ground. It is easy to tell if a vulture has eaten recently and had not had the opportunity to dry its wings as clumps of food still cling to the dark feathers, looking like large flecks of dust.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Suddenly, the tree seemed to come alive. As one bird flew in, another was leaving with a constant flow of movement circling the tree. They were silent except for the occasional flapping of wings when one of the birds tried to gain its balance. Once, a vulture flew in from behind and surprised another bird who stumbled forward, lost its grip and fell onto another branch. I thought it was injured at first as it left its wings spread wide. One wing appeared to be snagged on a branch. Eventually, though, the bird hopped to the right and freed its wing, then closed them tight against its side. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We spoke with one of the neighbors who said they were not happy with the birds in the local community. Apparently, the venue of 100 or more vultures had used that same tree for resting purposes every night for many years. Apparently, the neighbors are concerned that the urine from the vultures falling to the ground is creating an unsanitary condition in the neighborhood. I tried to explain that the urine of Turkey Vultures is so sterile it could be used as an antiseptic, and started to explain that they pee on their legs to sterilize their legs after eating, but I began to suspect this might be too much information for someone who is obviously not crazy about vultures! &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
In many communities, vultures are recognized as nature's cleaning crew, keeping the community free of disease. In fact, scientists have discovered that the vulture's stomach acid is so sanitizing it will even destroy anthrax when vultures consume animals that have died from this disease. &lt;br /&gt;
 &lt;br /&gt;
Regardless of their appearance, and their reputation unfairly gained from their use in horror films, Turkey Vultures, and their habitats, are protected by the Migratory Bird Treaty Act of 1918, so it's best just to let them do their job as God intended. Should they decide to move into your neighborhood, either leave them alone, or admire them for the important role they place in the circle of life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8685402180262067476-4355739222298154798?l=blessedlittlecreatures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/wnB2YQ6q-QidCDr1BJ1xj9rM0Jg/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/wnB2YQ6q-QidCDr1BJ1xj9rM0Jg/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BlessedLittleCreatures/~4/2pG_Q2afE4s" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://blessedlittlecreatures.blogspot.com/feeds/4355739222298154798/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8685402180262067476&amp;postID=4355739222298154798" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685402180262067476/posts/default/4355739222298154798?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685402180262067476/posts/default/4355739222298154798?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BlessedLittleCreatures/~3/2pG_Q2afE4s/vulture-tree.html" title="The Vulture Tree" /><author><name>Darla Sue Dollman</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/109178233717896374634</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh6.googleusercontent.com/-z1typ8qUiaY/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAuA/7tVweNHnOpw/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://blessedlittlecreatures.blogspot.com/2011/09/vulture-tree.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Ak4MSH0-eSp7ImA9WhdVEU4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8685402180262067476.post-2551095195323321324</id><published>2011-09-14T21:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-15T19:09:49.351-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-09-15T19:09:49.351-07:00</app:edited><title>It's an Opossum! It's an Opossum!</title><content type="html">We are watching through the window now. It's a huge Opossum. He is chewing up the sunflower seeds, then spitting the shells back out as the little grass balls I wrote about last night. That's why the birds pick the seeds back out and eat them--they're not picking at poop!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Opossums look like big rats. They're the size of a cat with long snouts, black ears and silver-tipped fur. They are not unattractive, just different. They make their home wherever they can find food and water, generally in dead tree stumps near food sources. I suspect this one lives across the street in the forest. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Opossums will lie down, close their eyes and let their tongue droop when frightened so they look dead, but the one outside my window is just watching us. Apparently, we don't frighten him! They also like to hang upside down by their tails. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Opossums are the oldest mammals in Texas. They have remained completely unchanged for fifty million years. It is believed they acquired their names from Captain John Smith of the Jamestown Colony. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Unfortunately, they have a very short life span because they have many predators. Most die because they are hit by cars, though. They become frightened, lie down, pretend they are dead, and the car hits them. They are also eaten by owls, dogs, and coyotes. Opossums are also immune to rattlesnake venom and they eat snakes!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
They're intelligent creatures and can easily locate and remember where they've found food--that's why he keeps coming back here night after night. He knows I'll leave food for him. They also like peanut butter!  &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
He's so cute!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8685402180262067476-2551095195323321324?l=blessedlittlecreatures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/RHcBiDB36LiwZI7KhzVs4JhJuoY/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/RHcBiDB36LiwZI7KhzVs4JhJuoY/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BlessedLittleCreatures/~4/eMdZwRxP7JM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://blessedlittlecreatures.blogspot.com/feeds/2551095195323321324/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8685402180262067476&amp;postID=2551095195323321324" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685402180262067476/posts/default/2551095195323321324?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685402180262067476/posts/default/2551095195323321324?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BlessedLittleCreatures/~3/eMdZwRxP7JM/its-possum-its-possum.html" title="It's an Opossum! It's an Opossum!" /><author><name>Darla Sue Dollman</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/109178233717896374634</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh6.googleusercontent.com/-z1typ8qUiaY/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAuA/7tVweNHnOpw/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://blessedlittlecreatures.blogspot.com/2011/09/its-possum-its-possum.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Ck4BQ3k6fCp7ImA9WhdWGUs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8685402180262067476.post-7760935603668135057</id><published>2011-09-13T17:42:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-13T17:42:32.714-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-09-13T17:42:32.714-07:00</app:edited><title>Another Mystery--Beautiful Brown Dove</title><content type="html">I heard a dove in the backyard yesterday while I was waiting for the dogs. I couldn't see it at first--it was very high in the trees. It didn't look like the white winged doves I normally find in the backyard so I ran for my camera to see if I could get a closer look. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This is, indeed, a mystery. The bird is clearly a dove. It has the same blue-rimmed eyes of the white winged doves and scarlet legs, but its wings are a deep chocolate brown and its chest and belly are rust-colored. So lovely!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I saw it in the tree again this morning, sitting alone, watching me. I wonder who it is, and how it ended up in my backyard. Searching for water in a drought-stricken state? Or seed? I haven't noticed a mate. I searched and searched, but was unable to make a positive identification. If anyone recognizes this beautiful bird, please let me know!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8685402180262067476-7760935603668135057?l=blessedlittlecreatures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/pREMlvnNETCl71Q1gA7r1wWys0s/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/pREMlvnNETCl71Q1gA7r1wWys0s/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BlessedLittleCreatures/~4/3ia0ASzPlpA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://blessedlittlecreatures.blogspot.com/feeds/7760935603668135057/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8685402180262067476&amp;postID=7760935603668135057" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685402180262067476/posts/default/7760935603668135057?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685402180262067476/posts/default/7760935603668135057?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BlessedLittleCreatures/~3/3ia0ASzPlpA/another-mystery-beautiful-brown-dove.html" title="Another Mystery--Beautiful Brown Dove" /><author><name>Darla Sue Dollman</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/109178233717896374634</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh6.googleusercontent.com/-z1typ8qUiaY/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAuA/7tVweNHnOpw/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://blessedlittlecreatures.blogspot.com/2011/09/another-mystery-beautiful-brown-dove.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkEGRns7eip7ImA9WhdWGUg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8685402180262067476.post-1324858502686634772</id><published>2011-09-13T17:03:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-13T17:03:47.502-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-09-13T17:03:47.502-07:00</app:edited><title>A Mystery in the Seed Dish</title><content type="html">We have a mystery in the seed dish outside the bedroom window. Each morning, when I check the seed level, I find these little balls of seed and grass. They resemble feces, somewhat, but not really. They're more like hay rolls with seeds mixed in. To be honest, I don't have a clue what they are. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I do have other clues. They only arrive at night. I remove them all during the morning, and check the seeds throughout the day because the water dish is beneath and I like to make sure that the birds have clean water when they need it. I don't see the little grass balls, though. So, obviously, whatever it is that is leaving the little grass balls in the seed tray, they only do it late at night. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
At first, we only noticed one or two. My husband pointed them out to me when he was leaving for work. He scooped them out with a leaf and tossed them onto the sidewalk. Later that day, I checked the sidewalk--it appeared as if the birds had broken it apart and eaten the seeds the way some birds will pick at cow manure. Gradually, more little grass balls appeared. This morning, there were so many that I had to scoop them up with a box lid from the trash--they completely covered the tops of the seeds. They do not smell like feces, and the seeds underneath are not clumped together as if something had gone potty on them. It's just such...a mystery!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I close my blinds when it's dark because the birds go to bed and stop visiting the tray, so I'm not really sure what happens after dark in that corner of the house. It is a little secluded, even though it faces the street. This is intentional. I have two crape myrtles in pots beside the seed tray waiting to be planted in our new house. I placed them by the seed tray so the birds would have a place to land. I also have a Wisteria branch in a pot that is growing strong and vining around the seed table. The Wisteria was uprooted at our old house during straight line winds that came through in the spring. In front of the tray I have potted plants. I set it up this way to protect the birds from the many stray cats in the neighborhood--who of course come for the dish of food I keep on the opposite side of the house, in case they cannot find food of their own.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This seclusion became particularly important this spring when a father and mother cardinal arrived, then slowly, one by one, they started bringing their babies down to the seed dish to feed them and teach them how to eat seeds. It was a wonderful adventure. Yesterday, I saw the mother, father, three girls and boy baby birds all on the back patio at once. The babies are no longer babies. Even in the spring they were the size of their parents. They still look a bit awkward as their adult feathers continue to fill in. Nevertheless, with their bright colors and funny habit of hopping around each other and skipping across the bricks they are beautiful gifts from God to our yard. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So, now I have these strange little grass balls in the seed dish. Tonight, instead of closing the blinds when it get dark outside, we will leave them open and wait. There isn't a light in the bedroom in that corner, so it will still be dark enough that the creature should not be frightened away, and I'm usually awake until two in the morning, writing. Odds are good that the mystery will be solved tonight.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8685402180262067476-1324858502686634772?l=blessedlittlecreatures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/4QGYIzNl91aNO3s_g3ERjVyPskk/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/4QGYIzNl91aNO3s_g3ERjVyPskk/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BlessedLittleCreatures/~4/6B8VVwMECVg" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://blessedlittlecreatures.blogspot.com/feeds/1324858502686634772/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8685402180262067476&amp;postID=1324858502686634772" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685402180262067476/posts/default/1324858502686634772?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685402180262067476/posts/default/1324858502686634772?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BlessedLittleCreatures/~3/6B8VVwMECVg/mystery-in-seed-dish.html" title="A Mystery in the Seed Dish" /><author><name>Darla Sue Dollman</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/109178233717896374634</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh6.googleusercontent.com/-z1typ8qUiaY/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAuA/7tVweNHnOpw/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://blessedlittlecreatures.blogspot.com/2011/09/mystery-in-seed-dish.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A08MRXY4cSp7ImA9WhdXE0s.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8685402180262067476.post-566962193393272766</id><published>2011-08-26T07:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-26T07:44:44.839-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-08-26T07:44:44.839-07:00</app:edited><title>Lady Chatterley</title><content type="html">When we first moved into this house there was a mother squirrel with four babies living in the dead, hollow tree in the backyard. It was difficult to determine the mother from her four babies as she is very small, but sometimes a strong wind would come up and she would stretch her paw across the back of one of the baby squirrels to help keep them on the branch. This, I knew, must be the mother. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It is instinctive, like when a mother is driving alone in a car and is forced to stop fast, but finds herself flinging her arm across the passenger seat to keep a child from jerking forward, a child who is not in the car! I recognized this movement in the squirrel. Her child was firmly perched on that branch, but she braced the baby with her paw, just in case...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The contractor building the house next door explained that he used to own this house and the tree was dead then, but mother squirrels have used the tree for as long as anyone can remember to raise their young, so no one cuts the tree down. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Gradually, over the summer, the four baby squirrels disappeared. I assumed they moved on to find homes of their own. In fact, I'm fairly certain one has moved into the neighbor's backyard tree! &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
When I returned from Colorado, I noticed a small squirrel lying beneath a tree on its belly. It was a feisty little thing, chattering loudly at the dogs and I whenever we walked outside. Before I left, I noticed we were down to one again and assumed it was a rogue male. The squirrel would scamper into the tree when I came outside and sit level with my eyes where the branches divided, watching me calmly, waiting for me to take the dogs back inside. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I usually knock loudly on the window, then the door, then open the door a crack and shout "dog" to give the squirrel a chance to climb the tree, but one afternoon, as I walked in and out the back door, Chewy the Chihuahua (A.K.A. the Chewchewcabra) snuck out the door and chased the squirrel into the tree. The squirrel was so angry he did not stop chattering for a long time. I was convinced it was a male then because it was so feisty!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I was wrong. A few days ago, when I rapped on the window, the squirrel stood up on its hind legs and looked around for the dogs. As soon as the squirrel raised its body I realized it is not only a female, but it is pregnant. It is the mother squirrel, still so tiny it is difficult to tell that she is fully grown. I am amazed that she somehow managed to carry and raise four babies on her own! &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Now, it is late summer and the temperatures in the Texas Hill Country often reach 110 degrees. Momma squirrel is hot and tired and often chatters loudly when Chewy runs outside (she doesn't seem to mind my husband and I, or our two chocolate labs). When we go back indoors, she scratches a curved space into the dirt and lies down beneath the tree with her belly in the cool  space of the hole she just created. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We are on water restrictions because of the drought. There is no lawn on this rental property, so we use out water allotment to water the trees and leave water in small dishes for the birds who flock to our house in large numbers. I fill a clay plant pot tray with water and they use this to bathe and clean their feathers. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Momma squirrel now digs her belly hole in the space where we water as the dirt is damp and cool. I think of all the little creatures in our yard, she probably appreciates the water more than most. She still chatters loudly when Chewy comes outside. We have named her Lady Chatterley. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8685402180262067476-566962193393272766?l=blessedlittlecreatures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/G8wgt8KPoDwVFbhBDV16POLOo68/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/G8wgt8KPoDwVFbhBDV16POLOo68/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/G8wgt8KPoDwVFbhBDV16POLOo68/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/G8wgt8KPoDwVFbhBDV16POLOo68/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BlessedLittleCreatures/~4/9cgOgdxXH24" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://blessedlittlecreatures.blogspot.com/feeds/566962193393272766/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8685402180262067476&amp;postID=566962193393272766" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685402180262067476/posts/default/566962193393272766?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685402180262067476/posts/default/566962193393272766?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BlessedLittleCreatures/~3/9cgOgdxXH24/lady-chatterley.html" title="Lady Chatterley" /><author><name>Darla Sue Dollman</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/109178233717896374634</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh6.googleusercontent.com/-z1typ8qUiaY/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAuA/7tVweNHnOpw/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://blessedlittlecreatures.blogspot.com/2011/08/lady-chatterley.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkUMR344fSp7ImA9WhdQE0k.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8685402180262067476.post-864125398013021316</id><published>2011-08-14T11:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-14T11:58:06.035-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-08-14T11:58:06.035-07:00</app:edited><title>Back in Texas...</title><content type="html">I am home from Colorado and already miss the Sparrow Hawks, Red Tail Hawks, and the little yellow American Goldfinches that would swoop low over the swimming pool as the children splashed and played. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It was a stormy three-day drive with thunderstorms in Colorado, New Mexico, and the Texas panhandle, but the hawks and crows were in their place, watching and guiding me. The crows that watch the highways in New Mexico are so big I sometimes mistake them for hawks as I drive past. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
When I finally arrived home, the first thing I did was fill the water dishes for the wild birds in the back yard and fill the seed dishes and trays. When I came inside, I noticed the birds in the tray outside the window. The little Titmouses, the Northern Cardinals, and the Scrub Jays. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The Cardinal family is still here. The father and mother and their four babies. The babies are going through those awkward teenage changes, but instead of fighting acne, they're colorful feather are filling in. The male teenage cardinals look rather funny when they go through this stage. The three females look awkward, too, though the changes in thetir color is not quite as obvious as their brother. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And true to their nature, my two Colorado chocolate labs are now perched in front of the air conditioner, wiping their brows and complaining about the heat while my Texas chihuahua is lying in the heat from the sunlight piercing the bedroom window glass. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8685402180262067476-864125398013021316?l=blessedlittlecreatures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/rBxLnDzSAGiyCrzk0ddAdOoRl3M/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/rBxLnDzSAGiyCrzk0ddAdOoRl3M/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/rBxLnDzSAGiyCrzk0ddAdOoRl3M/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/rBxLnDzSAGiyCrzk0ddAdOoRl3M/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BlessedLittleCreatures/~4/ECGr-85ZDdM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://blessedlittlecreatures.blogspot.com/feeds/864125398013021316/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8685402180262067476&amp;postID=864125398013021316" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685402180262067476/posts/default/864125398013021316?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685402180262067476/posts/default/864125398013021316?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BlessedLittleCreatures/~3/ECGr-85ZDdM/back-in-texas.html" title="Back in Texas..." /><author><name>Darla Sue Dollman</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/109178233717896374634</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh6.googleusercontent.com/-z1typ8qUiaY/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAuA/7tVweNHnOpw/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://blessedlittlecreatures.blogspot.com/2011/08/back-in-texas.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUUCQ3s_cSp7ImA9WhdREEs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8685402180262067476.post-4638374418386890212</id><published>2011-07-30T16:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-30T16:07:42.549-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-07-30T16:07:42.549-07:00</app:edited><title>Bug Life at the Park</title><content type="html">I was at the park with my grandchildren when we suddenly noticed an abundance of flying bugs, possibly a type of wasp. After closely examining the photos, I believe they may have been Ichneumon Wasps, though I cannot see any white on their antennae. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The wasps were not bothering us at all. They hovered over the sand, digging holes, crawling inside, crawling back out, then covering the holes. After we watched them for a bit, we decided they were either looking for food in the sand, or laying eggs. We could actually see them moving tiny pebbles, pebbles that looked like boulders compared to the size of the wasp!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I suspect this is a type of Digger Wasp, or Miner Wasp. The reason for the digging is rather unpleasant, in a way. They paralyze their prey, stuff the prey inside the holes, then lay their eggs in the holes and their larvae eats the paralyzed prey. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I have read a few interesting stories regarding the behavior of these wasps. Apparently, they are capable of memorizing every last detail surrounding their nest. They fly off, then quickly return to check on the nest. The book&lt;a href="http://www.kellscraft.com/Wasps/Wasps21.html"&gt; Wasps and Their Ways &lt;/a&gt;by Margaret Morley explains how one can place a leaf across the entrance to the nest, and the wasp will frantically fly about, confused by the altered appearance, though certain she is in the right place. When the leaf is removed, she will calmly check on the nest, then search for prey.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Another article describing &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Digger_wasp"&gt;Digger Wasps&lt;/a&gt; explains the theories of philosopher Daniel Dennett who compares the behavior of Digger Wasps to the concept of Free Will. According to this article, the digger wasp brings its prey to the nest, leaves the prey outside while it inspects the nest, then comes back out to retrieve the prey and stuff it inside the nest. If the prey is moved, the wasp will locate the prey and move it back in the nest, but repeat its behavior of inspecting the nest first before depositing the prey inside, even though it has already inspected the nest. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We did not observe the wasps depositing prey in the nests. We observed the wasps digging holes in the sand, climbing into the sand, returning head first and flying out of the holes, and sometimes covering the holes back up. They could be a different type of wasp altogether who is simply depositing eggs in the sandbox. There were many of them, though. So many that we stopped playing and returned home. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
A week later, we returned to the park. There was a few wasps, but not nearly as many as the first trip, so we decided to play. Suddenly, we noticed a type of creature that appeared to be a type of centipede crawling through the sand, many of them, very small, and dark brownish-red. We could not identify these bugs, either, so we decided to leave in case they were biters.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
As we left, we noticed that a pair of swallows has a nest in the bar that holds up the swing set. The birds were flying in and out with...bugs. Apparently, nature has taken over the playground.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8685402180262067476-4638374418386890212?l=blessedlittlecreatures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/qzlUdv9bAW1d7zlU2o4HKjJctGM/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/qzlUdv9bAW1d7zlU2o4HKjJctGM/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BlessedLittleCreatures/~4/kS1AqjK3ktQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://blessedlittlecreatures.blogspot.com/feeds/4638374418386890212/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8685402180262067476&amp;postID=4638374418386890212" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685402180262067476/posts/default/4638374418386890212?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685402180262067476/posts/default/4638374418386890212?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BlessedLittleCreatures/~3/kS1AqjK3ktQ/bug-life-at-park.html" title="Bug Life at the Park" /><author><name>Darla Sue Dollman</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/109178233717896374634</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh6.googleusercontent.com/-z1typ8qUiaY/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAuA/7tVweNHnOpw/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://blessedlittlecreatures.blogspot.com/2011/07/bug-life-at-park.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkMARnw9fip7ImA9WhdTGUk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8685402180262067476.post-2942561578321950694</id><published>2011-07-17T15:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-17T15:07:27.266-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-07-17T15:07:27.266-07:00</app:edited><title>A lizard in suburban Colorado?</title><content type="html">The last thing I expected to see crossing the sidewalk as we walked to the park was a lizard.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
They are quite common in Texas. In fact, I see three or four a day. And I'm sure they are also common in Colorado, but to be honest, the only place I've ever seen them in Colorado is down south, near Mesa Verde.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
At first, my grandchildren and I stood and stared. None of us expected to see a lizard this far north where the snow is sometimes six feet deep in winter, and in fact, winter dragged on this year until May! But there it was, a tiny lizard, sunbathing on the sidewalk. We crept slowly forward, and when I realized it was, indeed, a little lizard, I slowly moved to its side, talking to it, photographing its lovely head and tail. The grandchildren followed my example, creeping closer and closer, using soft, soothing voices. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Lizards enjoy this type of conversation with soft voices and baby talk. They often turn their heads and look at you sideways--as this one died--as if they are trying to understand the conversation. After awhile, though, he seemed to get a bit nervous, realizing he was surrounded by giants, and scampered beneath a nearby fence. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
After downloading the pictures and searching diligently on the Colorado State University website, I have determined it was a female Prairie Lizard. They prefer sunny, rocky habitats and cliffs, downed logs, and forested areas, though they prefer ground areas. The females lay their eggs in June, July and August, so it's possible it had eggs nearby. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My daughter's house is in the foothills, so close that we can walk into the lower hills at the base of the mountains. I suppose it isn't that rare to find this type of lizard in this area, I was just surprised to see it!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8685402180262067476-2942561578321950694?l=blessedlittlecreatures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/YvjUEpTdpmV6yKVtu3qlNz74zqk/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/YvjUEpTdpmV6yKVtu3qlNz74zqk/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/YvjUEpTdpmV6yKVtu3qlNz74zqk/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/YvjUEpTdpmV6yKVtu3qlNz74zqk/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BlessedLittleCreatures/~4/8QEzfVyOgWk" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://blessedlittlecreatures.blogspot.com/feeds/2942561578321950694/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8685402180262067476&amp;postID=2942561578321950694" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685402180262067476/posts/default/2942561578321950694?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685402180262067476/posts/default/2942561578321950694?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BlessedLittleCreatures/~3/8QEzfVyOgWk/lizard-in-suburban-colorado.html" title="A lizard in suburban Colorado?" /><author><name>Darla Sue Dollman</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/109178233717896374634</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh6.googleusercontent.com/-z1typ8qUiaY/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAuA/7tVweNHnOpw/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://blessedlittlecreatures.blogspot.com/2011/07/lizard-in-suburban-colorado.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0ANRHs-cCp7ImA9WhdTGU4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8685402180262067476.post-3256279040117702170</id><published>2011-07-17T13:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-17T13:49:55.558-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-07-17T13:49:55.558-07:00</app:edited><title>Parenting in the Bird World</title><content type="html">The grandchildren and I went for a walk a few days ago and noticed a few baby sparrows perched on a neighbor's house. One of their parents flew up with some food, so of course, we rushed back to the house to get my camera. When we returned, they were gone. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
While we were at the park, we noticed a house sparrow flying in and out of the thick metal tube that the swings connect to, and this truly surprised me. I imagine it is rather hot inside the tube right now! &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Disappointed, we went back to the house, fetched the wagon, and went to the park. On the way back, we once again saw the baby sparrows. This time, they were perched on the street sign in front of my daughter's house. Four little babies chattering madly as their parents flew back and forth with bugs to soothe their insatiable appetites--baby birds eat about every twenty minutes. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And I thought it was challenging feeding my babies! My goodness, by the time those poor birds choose the juiciest bug, wash off the dirt (or boil it if its the first child and the parents are still in that over-protective mode), fly back to the babies, choose the child that will eat this round,  stuff the bug in the beak of the baby who, by this time, is chattering loudly and flapping all over the nest, pick up the toys they've scattered around the nest, toss a load of dirty feathers into the washing machine..no wonder it takes both parents to shop for the family groceries! Seriously, though, it must be exhausting to be a bird parent!   &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I am also surprised by the large number of birds in Colorado right now. They seem to be everywhere! Colorado, however, is generally a very dry state, and while Texas is plagued with drought at the moment, Colorado has so much rain that mountain towns, such as Estes Park, have daily flooding in the parking lots and public parks, and the park down the street from my daughter's home has sand bags piled up in various places around the park to prevent the water from overflowing onto the park's access roads. Water brings plants, which bring bugs, which bring...birds! &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I suspect we are seeing the baby birds in Colorado right now because they also had a very long, cold winter. When I left Texas the first week in June, we had skipped right past spring and were already experiencing 105 degree summer days. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Before I left Texas, I took many pictures of a mated pair of cardinals that stopped by our bedroom window tray of seeds every morning. For a short time, the father appeared alone and we assumed the mother was at the nest with the babies. Then one day, we noticed juvenile cardinals sitting in the tray--three females and a male. It is easy to spot a juvenile cardinal--they look awkward, are missing feathers, and almost appear as if they've been in a fight! At first, we could not tell their sex, but it gradually became more obvious as their feathers filled in. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And these were the magic moments. Every morning. we watched in awe as the mother and father cardinal took turns feeding the babies. After awhile, it became obvious that the parents were trying to teach the babies how to crack open seeds. The father actually appeared to be demonstrating this act. Then we realized the baby birds had learned the technique, though they continued to flap and chatter noisily, begging for food when their parents appeared. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
What amazed me the most, though, was the undeniable fact that the parent birds were showing emotions. We could actually see this through the window--the love, tenderness, and compassion they felt for their children. It was a family truly blessed by God.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8685402180262067476-3256279040117702170?l=blessedlittlecreatures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/jZMIeO8U36qQEGu-oF8CjLFrOe0/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/jZMIeO8U36qQEGu-oF8CjLFrOe0/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BlessedLittleCreatures/~4/xW_nZftLkDc" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://blessedlittlecreatures.blogspot.com/feeds/3256279040117702170/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8685402180262067476&amp;postID=3256279040117702170" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685402180262067476/posts/default/3256279040117702170?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685402180262067476/posts/default/3256279040117702170?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BlessedLittleCreatures/~3/xW_nZftLkDc/parenting-in-bird-world.html" title="Parenting in the Bird World" /><author><name>Darla Sue Dollman</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/109178233717896374634</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh6.googleusercontent.com/-z1typ8qUiaY/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAuA/7tVweNHnOpw/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://blessedlittlecreatures.blogspot.com/2011/07/parenting-in-bird-world.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUMGRHk_fyp7ImA9WhdTF0w.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8685402180262067476.post-3920829385616745794</id><published>2011-07-15T01:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-15T01:10:25.747-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-07-15T01:10:25.747-07:00</app:edited><title>Where do the birds go in a hailstorm?</title><content type="html">Late in the evening of July 13, 2011, I was helping my grandchildren get ready for bed when I heard thunder in the distance. I tucked them beneath the covers, then jumped into the shower to prepare for bed myself before the storm hit. Just as I turned off the water, I heard thunder so loud it made the walls tremble. I quickly slipped into my pajamas and ran into the hallway to meet both of my grandchildren. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Suddenly, it sounded as if hundreds of guns were firing at the house. My son-in-law shouted at us to get into the tornado closet, which was behind us, just beneath the stairs in the basement. I could hear him calling my daughter on the phone, knowing she was on her way home from work and trapped in the storm. I peeked out the door of the closet and watched in awe as golf ball-sized hail averaging 1 3/4 inches, smacked into the window, porch and yard, some flying back up off the ground. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
As the storm started to ease, my daughter pulled up in front of the house--she had stopped beneath a tree, hoping to protect her windshield. Another friend was caught in the storm with her children. She stopped the car, climbed into the backseat and covered her children with her arms to protect them in case the windshield broke. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The family cat, who darted outside through an open door earlier in the evening suddenly appeared, shivering with fear. We checked him over for injuries, but he apparently found shelter because he is fine. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I then walked out onto the lawn, staring up and down the street, looking for injured animals. Thankfully, there were none that I could see. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
There was hail of all sizes on lawns, in door jambs, driveways, and on cars and trucks. All four vehicles at this house received hail damage. The hail was in all sizes, too, from tiny, dime-sized pieces to golf ball sized chunks. Some were smooth, round, perfect balls. Others appeared to be clumps of tinier balls joined together. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I am still in Colorado. Although only a small portion of the state is considered part of "Tornado Alley," Colorado also has frequent tornadoes, particularly in the foothills. In 2008, I spent three hours in the basement closet with my granddaughter as the television repeatedly warned of possible tornadoes in our area and a mile-wide tornado plowed across the fields and the Town of Windsor on the other side of the highway from where my daughter lives. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Colorado is also known for fierce hail storms and tremendous hail damage. According to the &lt;a href="http://www.nssl.noaa.gov/primer/hail/hail_climatology.html"&gt;NOAA's &lt;/a&gt;National Severe Storms Laboratory, Colorado, Nebraska and Wyoming generally have more hail storms than anywhere else in the United States. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
As an avid bird watcher who keeps God's little creatures close to her heart, I am always concerned about the small animals caught in these storms. In &lt;a href="http://www.kfor.com/news/local/kfor-news-birds-hurt-hail-storm,0,3783138.story"&gt;May of 2010&lt;/a&gt;, residents of Norman, Oklahoma experienced a severe hail storm and in its aftermath discovered a large flock of birds was injured. Many of the birds died, but sixteen were rescued by local residents. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Hail can be extremely dangerous, particularly for small creatures, like birds, who cannot take shelter. I believe it is important to check outside, in the yard, perhaps even in the neighborhood, after storms like this to see if there are birds or other creatures injured by hail. God's little creatures need all the help they can get.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8685402180262067476-3920829385616745794?l=blessedlittlecreatures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;
I've spent a lot of time in my daughter's backyard and I've noticed her neighbor's tree seems to be the center of attraction for many little creatures in the neighborhood. I see many swallowtail butterflies in the neighborhood and they all seem attracted to this tree. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I watched one for about twenty minutes this afternoon. I don't know if it was playing, or searching for something, but it would fly around the perimeter of the neighbor's house, then into the tree, fluttering through the leaves and branches, then start around the house again. I kept waiting for it to land so I could take a picture, but it didn't seem interested in settling down. There are over 550 species of these large, colorful butterflies, but the ones I've seen in my neighbor's yard are all yellow with black stripes. Back in Texas, I've seen many varieties. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I don't know what type of tree the neighbor has in her front yard, but it seems to be a happy place for little creatures. It also attracts a wide variety of birds. I photographed a stunning brown bird, which I have not been able to identify. I also photographed an American Goldfinch, which was watching my granddaughter as she walked beneath the tree. My granddaughter could not see the bird, but you can tell by the photograph, the bird obviously could see her! It was a magical moment watching the bird follow my granddaughter as she strolled around the grass, staring up through the leaves. I think the bird was actually enjoying the fact that she was secretly spying on the little girl!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8685402180262067476-3287600513835379531?l=blessedlittlecreatures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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