Oh Dear Barbara!

It's been a less than fabulous week here at the Moore homestead. Monday night one of our chickens was taken, we think by a fox. I was awakened by this screeching noise, at first I thought it was the cat, then I realized it was one of the chickens. There was just a pile of feathers, and a trail leading into the woods. It was our darling Babs, the leader of the two. Now poor sad Gertrude is all alone, and we need to find her some chicken friends. The lady I got them from only has boys to give away, and I'm not certain we need a rooster around here. But polish roosters are hilarious looking, and that could be reason enough to get one. And they try to protect their ladies, so I think we'll get one rooster. Even still, I think she's going to need a couple of girlfriends. And I need to pick out the best rooster name ever.

Then the next day, our betta fish, Oscar, passed away. We've had Oscar for about a year, and he'd been acting like the end was near, so it was not entirely a surprise. It was, however, still a big bummer to have two of our pets die within 24 hours of each other.

The good news is the dogs, the cat, and the other fish all seem to be doing very well!

Here's a pic of Barbara the Polish Chicken, to remember her by:

I've been avoiding posting for a few weeks because, well, my dad died. And I thought I had to write something profound and heartfelt to show how wonderful he was and how much I loved him. But I was heartbroken and couldn't find the words.

Then I had too many words. They all came jumbled inside, and I had to get all of them out, but it made no sense and because the world's longest run on sentence.

So here's what you need to know: I love my dad. Though he was sick for a long time, and I truly recognize that he's in a better place and not suffering anymore, I still wasn't ready to not have a dad anymore. Most days I get through the day just fine, and then it will hit me that he's not here anymore.

There doesn't have to be just one post about my dad, there can be many. I have thirty years of memories of him, I can't get them all out at once. I think that's how it should be. Someday, I will tell you all about his last days, because they were actually quite wonderful. Right now it's all a little raw, but now it's out there, and I can move on ever so slightly, a little bit at a time.

Fiona Came Home!

Our darling little girl cat, Fiona, disappeared for a full 24 hours yesterday. Well, I think. We last saw her right before we went to bed, and the next morning she was nowhere to be found. She's a self-imposed indoor cat, has never really wanted anything to do with going outside, but we leave the door to our attached garage open so she can go in there and catch mice. Something she does almost too well. The other night she woke me up during a thunderstorm in the middle of the night to show me her TWO kills, and she was soaking wet! So obviously she had gone out the not quite closed garage door to the outside. I guess she discovered a world out there that she missed from her days as a stray. Or maybe she got shut in the neighbor's basement. We'll probably never know.

We made a point of leaving the garage doors open, but Hubs hadn't seen her all afternoon. On my way home late last night, I drove past our house to see if she had  been hit by a car, or met some other terrible fate on the road. But no kitty. I walked in the house, and she was standing at the top of the stairs as though nothing had happened. The dogs came out of their room and sniffed her all over (too bad no one can tell me where she was!), and then she discovered there was food in her dish, and chowed down.

Today she is all snuggles, enjoying the warmth of her home and her person's lap. She doesn't seem affected in any way, really. So I guess nothing terrible happened to her, she was just out having a good ole' time.