Kitty Mini-Jungle

Once upon a time we had huge pine trees in the back yard, which made it very shady. Jim helped me make a small flower bed, approximately 8' x 10', just outside the dining room windows. I could also see it through the window over the sink in the kitchen when I was cooking or washing dishes, and through the utility room window when I was doing laundry.

Kibbles, my Pekingese dog companion at the time, and I worked diligently planting seeds, watching them grow, and weeding every summer. It was filled with snapdragons, hollyhocks, zinnias, marigolds, sunflowers, red and yellow, flowering moss, impatients, petunias, poppies, pink mums, a white peony, and assorted other flowers at one time or another. Many of the plants were given to me by my mother-in-law, mama, and friends, which made them extra special. I thought about each of the people who contributed every time I tended the plants.

A running water fountain with three children sculpted onto it sat in the center, and bird feeders and hummingbird nector surrounded the bed. Squirrels, birds of all kinds, chipmunks, and butterflies abounded, as well as other wildlife, some welcome, some not. :)

It was a delight to sit out by the flower bed in the shade, listening to the fountain, hearing and watching the birds sing and chirp, as they fluttered about eating or bathing in the cool water. The hummingbirds flying around sounded like tiny airplanes as they zipped about drinking the cool red liquid hanging in feeders nearby.

I heard the soft fluttering of a butterfly's wings once, as it flew swiftly by my ear. Amazing!

The squirrels would come and sit in the trees chattering, preaching I called it, trying to run us off so they could run the birds off and get the seed. It was like a small piece of heaven to sit out there and talk...or daydream.

We also loved sitting at the dining room table sipping coffee and watching the activity. Dishwashing was more pleasureable watching the activity outside. It was a time before digital cameras, and I made tons of photos through the windows using a telephoto lens on a 35mm camera. Wonderful times.

But then Kibbles got so old and sick that she had to be euthanized. It broke my heart. I started community college. Blight hit the pine trees and they all had to be cut, taking the shade with them. Life and various other traumatic events that changed my life took over and I no longer had the heart to have a flower bed.

Some of the flowers came back for a few years, but were eventually smothered out by weeds, vines, sage grass, and assorted other natural plants. A couple of stray cats adopted us. They and my dad's cat ended the bird, butterfly, chipmunk, and squirrel population in the yard, as well as, most other small wildlife that dared to enter. Well, the drought a few years ago helped.

The fountain hasn't been hooked up in years now. It sits there waiting to come to life again, to give pleasure and nourishment. All it needs is a little attention.

Because the bed was surrounded by a foot wide concrete border and a little fence, I couldn't mow it, so I used a weed-eater to keep it neat. I've done that every year up until this past fall. It was overgrown a little and I just left it.

I noticed during the fall and winter how much the cats enjoyed hiding and playing in the bed around the fountain and among the turned over flower pots and bird feeders. They often seek shelter during light rain or snow in one of the bigger open feeders that my dad built. Climbing on the fountain is like Disneyland to the kittens.

This spring I have not touched the garden. It has become a mini-jungle for the cats and kittens to play in. Sammidog also likes to lay in the coolness of the shady leaves. Nature has planted a variety of wonderful plants for us to enjoy.

While the kitty jungle looks like a mess that needs cleaning up to family and friends, it's a wonderful tiny piece of heaven again to me and my pets. There's a whole fascinating world of activity going on in the jungle among the leaves and vines. The cats aren't the only inhabitants if one looks closely.

It's not just weeds and such either. There's a bush with heart-shaped smooth leaves. When the leaves are new they are gorgeous reddish colors. They get green as they get larger and yellow as they die. There's also a vine of some sort with heart shaped rough leaves that resemble grape vine leaves climbing all over the feeder. Honeysuckle and blue morning glory vines climb the surrounding fence. Queen Anne's lace is beginning to bloom and the volunteer pink hollyhock is blooming since I took the pictures.

If, when I'm walking around it, I keep my eyes and ears open, I can see and hear a whole little world busy going about it's daily business of surviving. If I quietly stoop down, I can see the nooks and crannies under the vines with kittens sleeping or scuffling in the cool shade.

These cats are skittish though and often hide where they think I can't see them and watch me. It's when they don't know I'm watching from inside the house that the real action takes place. Right outside my windows there's a virtual circus, and it is such fun to watch.

The kittens chase each other around in the jungle, wrestling around in the vegetation. They climb and swing from the dis-assembled fountain and the feeder. They hide in the overturned flower pots and jump out on one another. It's so funny to see a kitten face under a leaf hat. They chase each other from the jungle, across a small distance in the yard to a tree, and back. Their antics are neverending and funny, and laughter is always good medicine.

Sometimes there's a kitten pile on the concrete rabbit bench, all napping (I love kitten piles), or a lone kitten curled up in a pot or on the cow skull that Sammidog hasn't destroyed yet. He completely pulverized the deer head skull I had in the bed, antlers and all.

I thought about preparing and planting the bed in all kinds of flowers this spring. I kind of wanted to, after all these years, but with Sammidog and the cats, there's no way it would survive. I can't even keep potted plants outside.

But that's okay.

I've found that often to have one thing we have to give up another, and I enjoy my pets. Besides God has given me a garden of a different kind. It may not have a lot of multi-colored flowers in it, but natural plants in a tiny jungle can be just as wonderful. The cats love having it and we enjoy the cats so it's relaxing, peaceful, and healing in a natural way, plus there's no weeding. That's a good thing. :)

The end--pictures follow...

The dis-assembled fountain. I mentioned the other day that we should hook it back up. The cats would love the running water. Jim, who used to not tolerate cats at all, was afraid they'd chew on the cord and get electrocuted, so I guess it will stay like it is for now.



A glass gazing ball. If you look close, behind and just a little to the right, you can see Sammidog's face. He's a camera hog and when he saw me making pictures of the bed he jumped over in it and posed.

It doesn't show up much, but the honeysuckle is blooming and smells so good. It's all along this side and one end. You can also see the wooden bird feeder under the other vine, Rabbit Hop Cafe painted on the roof. The kittens climb these vines like they were ropes.

One end, behind the fountain. See the orange and white cat enjoying her jungle. She resented my intrusion on her nap. :)

The front of the bed with the concrete rabbit bench. The pink hollyhock on the left is blooming now, and the Queen Anne's Lace is beginning to.

You can't see the overturned pots, etc in the pictures, and I know it just looks awful and like a snake den to some of you, but it isn't. It's our own tiny jungle, complete with jungle cats, and fascinating adventures just waiting to be had. :)

IMT Challenge-Ghost

This weeks challenge on Inspire Me Thursday is ghost. I posted a photo and a little written story to go with it on Moxie Blue under the same title as this post if you'd like to read it. Thanks so much for visiting and a new tale or two is on the way for Scribbles!

Bobbie Tail & Nacho Say...

For some reason the font letters wouldn't go any larger. Sorry! It says, "Happy MoooooooYear From Rabbit Hop."

Wishing you all the best year ever!

Some Published Stories

I hope everyone had a good Thanksgiving. I did. It was just mama and me this year, although we were invited to a couple of places. All I wanted was dressing and mashed potatoes. Mama cooked and, of course, added some other dishes, plus one of my favorite pies that we've always just called "just pie", which was delicious. We just spent a quiet evening together. Jim missed being with family, but he had a nice dinner with his towboat family, and he called home and talked to us. We have a lot to be thankful for. :)

I was going to post a whole story that I had published today, but I have too much else to do, including working on the last assignment of a writing course that's waaaaaaaaay overdue, so I thought I'd post the links to some of my published writing that is still in the ezine's archives.

I haven't submitted anything in quiet a while, but hopefully that will change soon. Most of my friends and family have read these already, but I wanted to share them with my new blogging friends, so if you need something to do for a few minutes, the links are below. They are all true personal experience pieces except "The Power Of A Teabag," which is totally fiction.

The Pink Chameleon published me first, and I was so thrilled.

"A Slice Of Heaven" http://www.geocities.com/thepinkchameleon/archive/heaven.html

Long Story Short has published four of my pieces.

"The Great Grey Hunter" http://www.alongstoryshort.net/THEGREATGREYHUNTER.html
"The Mouse Caper" http://www.alongstoryshort.net/TheMouseCaper.html
"How Old Are You Anyway?" http://www.alongstoryshort.net/howoldareyouanyway.html
"The Power Of A Teabag" http://www.alongstoryshort.net/ThePowerofaTeabag.html

Applecart also published me, but they are no longer publishing.

Thanks for checking them out, and I hope you enjoyed them, because I loved writing them! :)

Sammie-Dog Finds a Home

Meet Sammi-Dog...He arrived on Rabbit Hop last week.

Mama, who lives next door, saw him coming up through the garden the middle of last week with his chin and tail dragging the ground. She happened to be feeding her cats and dog at the time, so that's where he went first. He was so starved that he could barely walk and his head and ears were covered in big ticks. She felt sorry for him and fed him and picked some of the ticks off, but her dog, Auger (another stray in bad shape that found a home), who has been around a long time, let him know quickly that he wasn't welcome there.

This is not an uncommon occurrance. We live in a rural area out in the country, so dropped/stray animals are always showing up. Over the years a number of them have become pets. Others just pass through and keep going.

Neither of us wanted another dog. I haven't wanted another one since I had to have the last one euthanized, eleven years ago. I still haven't gotten over that one.

The next day he followed her to my house, barely able to walk, his eyes very dull and lifeless. It's hard to tell from the pictures, but his sides were sunk in as far as they could sink, his backbone and ribs were sticking out. None of us thought he would live through the night.

I have never been fond of any kind of hound, and, as I said, I didn't want a dog of any kind. I have cats and cows. I sure didn't want another house dog. But there was something about this pup and those eyes that just melted me, and I was a goner. Jim and mama too.

I gave him a bowl of warm milk and fixed him a warm bed on the back porch. He was never afraid of us or the cats, though if he got too close to the older ones he would get slapped and made to yelp. Needless to say, I had to stay with him to keep the cats back. They like milk too, but they're not starving.

He lapped up the milk and crawled right into the bed. For a couple of days he only got out of bed if I went out, to eat, or take a bathroom break. He looked like a Sammie to me, so that became his name.

Due to malnutrition he had no winter coat or fat on his body, and one day it was cool and damp. He shook a lot, some from cold or shock, even with cover, and some from nerves. This day I happened to remember that I still had my last dog's (a Pekingese) sweater, so I put that on him. He didn't mind a bit. You would have thought he'd worn one his whole life. Maybe he had. I don't know. No idea where he came from.

Anyway he has continually gained strength and is now literally bouncing around like a rubber ball, tripping all over himself and any cat or person that happens to be near. He gallops now instead of weaving when he walks. His eyes are bright and sparkly. He and the cats get along good. He has a great personality, is very smart, and he's really funny, and expressive, if he is a little undisciplined.

Of course Jim is working so it's up to me to train him. At least he's old enough that he's not going to tear up everything...I think.

Yesterday when I went on the four-wheeler to check the cows I got him to follow me part of the way, but either he didn't understand what I was asking him to do, or he wanted to ride. I saw it as a way for him to work off some energy. He decided not and came back to the house. When I got back I walked him and the cats around our acre yard a couple of times. They loved it. Sammie-Dog had his nose to the ground trailing everything, including the cats. Wore me out.

Sammie-Dog was still bouncing. I have been needing to start exercising. Maybe he is the prod I needed to get started.

The grey and white spotted kitten, whose name is Spotty-Butt, and who carries her fuzzy tail laying flat on her back, has taken to Sammie-Dog too and rubs on him and sits with him or by his bed. He, for the most part, ignores her. I keep expecting to find her in bed with him one morning. She's a character too, but that's another story.

He's a great little dog, at least I hope he's about grown. I prefer small dogs. I noticed this morning that his fur is getting thicker and you can hardly see his ribs now that he's getting some fat on his bones. He doesn't care for dog food much though since he's not starving now. He apparently had been used to table scraps. That's what he prefers, but we don't have many, so he's going to have to get used to dog food.

I catch him standing in the driveway sometimes looking back over his shoulder like he wants to stay, but feels he should go. Maybe he's remembering his other family. Maybe they lost him and are looking for him too. Meanwhile we'll try to nourish him with food and attention. See the the pink dog food all over his chin.

I had a very hard time getting these pictures. Either Sammie-Dog would sit down right under the camera and pose, smiling, or he was against the back of my legs. I turned around so many times trying to catch him still long enough to snap the picture that I nearly got dizzy. He's an energetic goofball. Maybe it'll rub off on the rest of us. :)

Mama and Jim say I'll have him in the house before long. I don't think so, but we'll see. Will keep you posted.

Madamojell and Jessie Brown

The other day I was blog visiting and on Amanda Blake's blog I discovered this painting, which I love, and I couldn't help but giggle when I looked at it and it's title. It brought back memories of the two imaginary friends that I was blessed with as a child. Mine happened to be people, and I still have a soft place in my heart for those girls. :)

Their names were Madamojell and Jessie Brown and they were wonderful friends, always there to play with and talk to when nobody else was.

I was an only child, but there were always other children in the Rabbit Hop community to play with, plus I had lots of cousins, several around my age. Lots of sleepovers at our house too. The older girls in the neighborhood loved to spoil me. The whole community was more like family than just neighbors.

Even when I was alone, I wasn't. I had a vivid imagination, my dolls, my teddy bear, my monkey, my books, and my two friends that nobody could see or talk to except me. Mama would hear me carrying on a conversation out loud and she would ask who I was talking to.

I would look at her like she was crazy and say, "Madamojell. Can't you see her, Mama? She's sitting right there?"

Madamojell's name came from the word Madamoiselle. Mama used to call me that sometimes when I was being a little smarty pants. It stuck in my head. Only I couldn't pronounce it and it came out Madamojell. She was a free spirit; not afraid of anything or anyone. She traveled to the beat of her own song. I think, looking back, she was a combination of two older cousins and a neighbor girl that I always looked up to and loved immensely. I wanted to be just like them.

Of course, it was the fifties, and though my older friends dressed in lots of can-cans under full skirts, pony tails, bobby sox, and cardigan sweaters buttoned down the back, Madamojell dressed her thin body in long chiffon dresses, hid her long blonde hair under luscious wide brimmed hats, wore dainty gloves, and she wore lots of makeup and jewelry. She had a wonderful laugh and was very wise. At least, I thought so. She loved living and was full of self confidence.

Jessie Brown, on the other hand, was a complete opposite of Madamojell.

My older cousin, Gene, stayed with us for a while, and he had a friend named Jessie Brown ______, and I thought he was so handsome. He was dark haired, had a dark complexion, sparkling brown eyes, a great personality, and I just loved his name.

My invisible friend, however, was not sparkly. She was a lovely girl, very quiet, kind of plain looking in her dark plaid cotton dress with her long brown hair hanging down past her shoulders, her brown eyes kind of sad. She was a bit shy, a great friend, and fun to be with, even if she was afraid of her own shadow. The kind that you could sit in silence with, without feeling awkward.

The three of us spent many happy times together having tea parties, playing house, talking and laughing. Sometimes they even attended school with my dolls and stuffed animals, where they all sat lined up on the couch and listened attentively while I "read" to them from my Golden story books, the stories that mama had read to me until I had them memorized. The students enjoyed these stories immensely. (This was before I actually started school and learned to read; no kindergarten back then.) :)

As I got older, Jessie Brown disappeared. Or maybe she didn't. Maybe she has been me all these years.

Madamojell, on the other hand, still pops up often in the form of my alter ego or my creative muse.

I think she may be the me that I was always afraid to let out. Now that I'm a Senior Citizen, who knows, I may turn her loose. :)

Some Rabbit Hop History

I originally posted this little bit of Rabbit Hop history on Moxie Blue about a year ago, and surprised some of the people that had known me for years. They thought RH was a figment of my imagination. Since some of you may not be familiar with me I thought I'd post it here also. Hope you enjoy!

Thought I'd share a little about Rabbit Hop this morning, as some of you may be wondering what it is or if it really exists. It does indeed exist, and has since way before I was born. I've lived all but two years of my whole life here, and many magical things have transpired here over the years. :)

I'm not sure why it's called Rabbit Hop, except for the sheer number of rabbits that used to abound here. Even when I was growing up if you turned in to the drive after dark and the headlights hit, rabbits popped up like popping corn from everywhere and ran. Very prolific they are. :)

Rabbit Hop is a small community of houses in a rural area about four miles from the nearest really small town (one business street and no traffic lights). My maternal grandpa's dad bought a small farm with a house sitting back off the main road and moved in when my grandpa was about three years old, which was about 1899. The community was pretty thick with families at the time. There was a one room schoolhouse, Rabbit Hop School, near the main road, which Papa and his siblings attended. I'm not sure what else was here in the early 1900's (I need to do some research).

By the time I was born, Papa had married and raised six children in two sets (three,wait a few years, then three more). He, my grandma and the youngest two children were living in a house on the riverbank in town, and they ran a shoe shop in town, where they repaired shoes for a living. My mom, next to the youngest, married my dad, next to the youngest of eleven, when she was sixteen.

They lived with my dad's widowed mom, but I was born in Papa's house on the riverbank when mom was seventeen. We lived on the outskirts of town until I was two years old, still on the banks of the river. Papa now owned the country farm, so he gave my parents enough land by the main road for a house. It was a little four-room house built by dad. The rooms were small, we had no running water, no bathroom, no telephone, and no electricity, and I got very sick with polio right after we moved in.

They later bought a garden spot, of about an acre beside the house lot, from him in the Rabbit Hop community, where mama raised a garden every year and canned and froze most of what we ate. I can remember waking up in the mornings and she would already be in the garden hoeing out weeds and tending the vegetables.

I was about sixteen years old when mama and daddy had a new living room and kitchen added on to the four rooms. We had had cold running water in the kitchen sink for a few years, which had to be heated on the wood cookstove, but now we had hot and cold running water in the kitchen, plus my bedroom was turned into a bathroom, and the old living room became my bedroom. The old kitchen became a guest bedroom and mama's sewing room. But I get ahead of myself.

Papa and Granny moved back to the house on the farm for a few years when I was small. It was just over a little hill from our house, a short walk. They ran their shoe shop from a small building by the road, which my dad had built for a work shop. Daddy had to add on to the little shop for a place to do his mechanic and wood work. I grew up very close to all my grandparents, and I have made countless trips over that little hill to that home place in my lifetime. I have always loved it out there. So quiet and peaceful. Still.

The community was thick with houses, families, and neighbors who were the same as family. I was an only child, but I always had other children to play with and grow up with. There was a country grocery store across the road from us. They also sold gas. There was another one within walking distance down the road. There was also a button factory just under the hill on the way to the river, which we can't see, but it's only about a fifteen minute walk. There has always been a boat landing there and at different times beer joints. The man who ran the grocery was also a commercial fisherman and owned the button factory. Oh yes, there was also a rock crusher on the bluff above the river.

I went to school in town with all the other kids here in the fifties and sixties. We rode the school bus together every day. A few families came and went, but most were still here in the seventies when I married and my husband and I bought an acre adjoining my parent's garden spot from Papa near the road, where we built the home we still live in.

Daddy had already bought several acres adjoining their house place and eventually Papa sold him the farm, so I am the fourth generation to live on it. The community is no longer a thriving one. The grocery across the road, the button factory, shoe shop, and beer joints have long been gone. A nice rock-sided home replaced the Rabbit Hop School many moons ago. Some of the homes burned and the families moved away. Many of the people have now died or moved on.

Daddy made a wooden sign with two large rabbits a few years ago that said Rabbit Hop-population eleven and a half. It's fewer than that now. All that's left are hubby and me, my widowed mom next door, and the elderly couple kind of across the road and down a little piece. The only other houses left are used as weekend/vacation houses by the children that I grew up with, or their children.

Papa's old home place over the hill is now falling down, though we're still using the old barn for the few cattle we keep.

I've often taken spells of wanting to live somewhere else, at least for a while. Everything is so far away from us. The nearest towns of any size are half hour away, and the nearest city with a mall or any shopping is at least one and a half hours away. It's frustrating sometimes to have to drive so far for everything, especially as I get older, but on the other hand, I'm deeply attached here and wouldn't know how to live anywhere else. It's where my roots are.

I've seen a lot of life, both good and bad, here. People came and went over the years, buildings changed and disappeared, just like everywhere else. Time doesn't stand still and everything changes constantly. But, as I said at the beginning, magical things happen here sometimes if you're paying attention. I have lots of happy memories associated with this little place out in the sticks called Rabbit Hop Community, and I'm beginning to dread the time when I have to leave it behind.

One day I will tell you about the people and some of the magic of the Rabbit Hop I grew up in. :)