More Discovery Channel at Home

While we were having breakfast this morning, so was a little red fox in our backyard. And, yes, that IS a baby bunny he's devouring. Fortunately this time, we did not hear any screaming. Kudos to hubby for cleaning up the mess...

Animal Kingdom

We have this cat, Two, who is 13+ years old. She came from a shelter in Portland, Oregon in 1999, when she pawed at me through the bars of her cage and convinced me to look past all the adorable kittens in the next room and take a chance on a seasoned adult with a past. Ever since that moment, she has maintained this scrappy, aggressive sort of sweetness about her that I've always liked.

For more than half our time together, she's been an indoor cat. I started noticing in recent years that she was slowing down a bit, becoming less playful, and watching the birds and squirrels out the back window with only very passive interest -- as though she were only doing so because there was nothing good on HGTV.

So I was pleased to see her enjoying some time outdoors when we moved into a house with a yard last fall. I indulged her desire to move in and out of the house every fifteen minutes through the winter months. It's been fun to watch her stalking little critters in the backyard and proving that she still has her hunter's instincts. And when she started bringing us dead mice a few weeks ago, well... I had mixed feelings.

I'm certainly happy to see the old girl's still got it. I hope my reflexes and acuity are anywhere close to that when I'm the human equivalent of 13 cat years old. And considering the pest problems that have plagued us in this house, having a mouser on patrol in the backyard can only help things. The tradeoff, of course, is that at least twice a week one of us has to shovel our dead little 'gift' off the back patio and into the woods. Yuck.

A couple of days ago I was sitting at the computer with MLM, when we heard the most horrifying squealing noise coming from the backyard. At first I thought it was some birds fighting, but when I looked up I saw something through the window that's been nightmare fuel ever since. Two was in the middle of the yard, gleeful, as a screaming baby bunny tried desperately to free itself from her jaws.

Now I'm sure some of my animal rights friends will point out that there's no difference between the life of a gross little wood rat and that of a sweet bunny rabbit. Death is death, no matter how cute the victim. And I would say, you obviously haven't heard a baby bunny scream. It was awful.

So I grabbed MLM and rushed out the back door, commanding my very confused cat to let go of the poor thing as it struggled for freedom. She looked at me like 'Are you kidding me?' But after a moment, she relented, at least long enough for the bunny to escape to the nearest bushes. Two glared at me for ruining what was obviously the day's crowning achievement, then returned to the patio to sun herself resentfully. I don't know what happened to the injured little bunny.

It was all a little too Discovery Channel for my tastes. In fact, it was kind of like watching the Discovery Channel only to realize that the lion who is gnawing on the zebra carcass is actually someone you see and interact with daily, like Fred from the accounting department. If, that is, Fred also enjoys curling up in your lap and licking your chin on a regular basis. No matter how domesticated my sweet little cat is inside the house, her animal instincts are right there, just under the surface, ready to move in for the kill.

Fortunately, the bunny screams stopped ringing in my ears after a day or so. But MLM is still pointing out to the yard periodically and saying "I see rabbit. Let go, cat!" Hubby finds this terribly amusing. As for me, I think I need until the end of the week. In the meantime, Two is permanently banned from all forms of chin-licking.

I'm Like Edward Scissorhands... If He'd Worked at Supercuts

Today I got to do something I haven't done in about seven years: I took a brand new set of hedge clippers and started the long process of trying to reclaim our overgrown jungle of a yard. Our new house has a pretty extensively landscaped yard in front and back. It was definitely one of the selling points of the house; and it's also a big project waiting to be tackled, since the house was vacant -- and the yard untamed -- for two years before we moved in. (Incidentally this is also the reason for the rodent infestation I mentioned a few blogs ago, still making itself a nuisance today).

Today's goal was not so much to bring order to the entire jungle, but just to blaze a trail from the lower driveway where we park our cars up the hill to the front door. Well, blazing a trail or cutting a swath of destruction, depending on your perspective. I pretty much have a black thumb, so I'm sure someone with actual plant knowledge would've cringed watching me attack everything in my way.

Despite being horticulturally-impaired, it really felt good to get back out there with the clippers and do some work. Even a half hour of bending, snipping and pulling left me a little bit sweaty and a lot refreshed. It's nice to do work where you can see the results immediately -- a luxury I don't have in my profession.

Some clients make rapid progress (or none at all) and then disappear suddenly, while others come and stay for a long time without seeming to move at all. Some I'm surprised to see go, and others I have to gently, carefully push out of the nest into the world. Either way, I don't usually get to know what happens next in their lives.... 

Did that couple who fought all the time in my office stay together or break up? Did the person who overcame her phobia continue facing her fears? Did the shy guy ever get the courage to ask for that promotion? Do they end up happy? Are they better for the experience of coming to sit with me for an hour a week for a while? Or do they look back and wish they'd put that money towards PlayStation instead?

I don't get to know. And that's okay, because our time together isn't about me. That time is all about the person sitting across from me -- what's going on in her world, what he wants to achieve. I am just a facilitator of growth, and sometimes a guide. And while I may walk alongside someone on that journey for a short period of time, it's absolutely critical that I don't confuse their journey with my own. When it goes well, or doesn't, when our paths merge, or suddenly part.... I don't get to take credit or blame; and I don't always get to know the outcome.

What I do have to do is stay mindful of my own journey, and take responsibility for my own feelings, my own decisions. That means taking care of myself, and allowing time and space to drift self-indulgently into my own thoughts when I am not sitting across from a client (or tending to a 15-month old). For, say, half an hour with the hedge clippers in the front yard.

So, maybe I pulled up some stuff that isn't weeds and left some things that are. And maybe the average adult would've done a far neater, more methodical job than I clearing away brush from the little stone path. But it was really nice to get out there in the yard and to know that it's mine (okay, ours) to tend. Plus, a little time with busy hands and a free mind is definitely a good thing.