Category Archives: Vazra

5 raccoons + 2 cats + 1 human = mayhem (part 2)

Leave a comment

I leaned over the fence and spoke warnings to the raccoons while waving a hand in the air from time to time so they would not approach.  Sadly, their hunger seemed to be overriding their fear and common sense.  All five of them kept edging closer and closer to Larenti and the tiny bit of food she had left, and now she was cornered against the fence with no way to escape without having to run right through the horde of marauders.

The string of expletives spewing from my mouth exceeded an R rating.  It was looking more and more like I’d have to jump the fence to keep the cat out of trouble, and that didn’t sound like fun since I was barefoot and wearing only a pair of shorts.  If any of the raccoons decided to push their luck, I’d be in trouble.

Therefore, I hastily grabbed more food from Vazra‘s dish and tossed it behind the raccoons.  The diversion was a success.  They all turned around and walked to the new supply, happily began eating, and didn’t notice the female cat’s hasty retreat around the other corner.

“Clever girl,” I said.  My smile turned into a frown when I saw she only moved a short distance away before lying down where she could watch the wildlife show.  Well, at least now she wasn’t cornered.  She was smart enough to get out of the way if they approached her.

While the two adults and two of the babies ate the food, the third baby found its way to the small pile the cat had been eating.  It was consumed rapidly.

Within a minute or so, all of the food was gone and the raccoons began foraging for more.  I had no intention of giving them additional cat food since it’s not really the best thing for them.  Besides, it was a diversionary tactic anyway, not a strategic one, and I didn’t want to keep feeding them while they could see me doing it.

To my dismay, however, the damage was already done.  The recently arrived adult raccoon obviously had taken note of my throwing food out.  He came directly to the fence where I was standing and sniffed madly.  He undoubtedly smelled the rest of the cat food in Vazra’s bowl.  He began reaching through the fence and sticking his face through it as well.  I could hear the repetitive sniffing and knew precisely what he was up to.  But he wasn’t getting that food.

I kept telling them it was over, time to go, no more food, and whatever other silliness I could think of, yet that didn’t stop his search.  The mother and babies could also smell the food but kept their distance — somewhat.  But the other adult…

Not willing to accept that no more food was forthcoming, and certainly well aware that I still had some, the critter began to scale the fence.  And I was standing right there.  That’s what I was afraid of, so I spoke louder and moved quickly to frighten it.  For a moment at least, the plan worked and the raccoon backed down the fence in a hurry.

I took a few steps to one side and picked up the cat food bowl, and then I stepped away from the fence and placed it next to the door.  In the meantime, realizing there was real jeopardy here, Vazra backed away from the fence and sat down quietly behind me.  In this case, I don’t mind being a human shield.  I also thought it was nice to see he trusted me enough to consider me protection.

While mother and babies foraged a bit while keeping an eye on me in case more food was to be offered, the other raccoon worked his way to and fro at the foot of the fence, constantly reaching in (and grabbing leaves and other small items to see if they were edible).  And then be began to climb again.

“No,” I said sternly as I moved forcefully toward the fence.  He again reversed course and got down as quickly as possible.  After a few minutes of roaming back and forth, he eventually turned and walked back the way he came.  I was relieved.

It was short-lived.

[Part 1 | Part 3]

5 raccoons + 2 cats + 1 human = mayhem (part 1)

2 Comments

It was a few minutes before 5:00 in the morning when my eyes popped open.  I was wide-awake.  I hate it when that happens, especially when I’d prefer to sleep.  With no hope of that, I climbed out of bed.

A quick glance outside indicated there were no visitors.  I was mainly looking for the cats, Vazra and his lady friend Larenti.  Sans external obligations, I stepped into the bathroom and brushed my teeth, put out fresh food and water for The Kids, and nearly leaped out of my skin when both Kako and Kazon literally flew out of the bedroom at warp speed.  Both had been resting comfortably by the patio door, so I assumed they were frightened by something outside (not frightened of it specifically, but rather frightened by a sudden noise or movement).

I glanced in the bedroom and saw Vazra sitting outside.  I was correct: Kako and Kazon probably were frightened when he leaped atop the fence, a maneuver that often makes a sudden and loud noise.  I giggled to myself as both cats slowly came back to the bedroom door to take a peek at whatever must certainly be coming to get them.  The sight of Vazra sitting patiently put everyone at ease.

I went to the kitchen and retrieved some bowls, put some cat food in one and fresh water in the other, and then stepped outside.  Vazra, as always, was quite happy to see me.  Before I had to ask if she was there, his lady friend came around the corner and spoke.  Both would get some breakfast this morning (although I’ll admit she visited late the night before and got a midnight snack).

I placed a small handful of food outside the fence as she waited patiently.  Only a few small meows from her punctuated the silence.  Vazra was already too busy eating to speak.  The moment the food was in place, she began munching as well.

While both felines enjoyed the first course of breakfast (the later courses would be during their return visits, if any), I stood and quietly spoke to them while petting Vazra.  We all heard the noise at the same time, and all three of us snapped to attention.  Something was coming.  In the context of the wildlife in this area, it sounded like a herd of elephants trampling through the undergrowth.

In the darkness, the first thing I saw was some tiny little creatures scurrying around the corner, but they were following something large.  Their approach kept them from being completely visible to me.  All I could see were some faint shadows moving about in the darkness.  Given the size of several of them, my first thought was that it was another cat with kittens in tow.  I was wrong.

It was a mother raccoon with three babies.  They were so small and cute, each probably no more than 6 – 7 pounds (2.5 – 3 kilograms).  They followed their mother closely.

The female cat was on full alert by the time the raccoon family rounded the corner.  Unlike Vazra and myself, she was outside the fence.  And she was standing over a pile of cat food.

“Oh, hell!” I blurted out.  She was standing over a pile of cat food…  Uh-oh.  While raccoons are terribly fearful of dogs (even though a raccoon can kill a dog), they don’t see cats as anything more than an odd curiosity.  That’s true except when it comes to a mother and her babies.  Under those circumstances, a female raccoon might consider cats a threat to her young.  Specifically in this case, they’d also see her as an obstacle between them and the cat food.

I immediately reached into Vazra’s bowl and grabbed another small handful of food.  I quickly tossed it over the fence directly into the path of the oncoming family.  My hope was that it would stop them from trying to take the cat food before my feline friend was through eating her breakfast.  It would also give me time to run inside and get something else to offer the raccoons lest this situation turn ugly.

My plan worked.  I returned to the patio with some pecans, almonds, and a Fig Newton.  The cookie is something sweet and can keep the raccoons occupied with diversity instead of focusing on the other food they smell.  I tossed the nuts over the fence so the meal landed close to the mother and babies.  I then broke the cookie up into several small pieces and tossed those over the fence as well.  All four raccoons were quite happy and munched away.

Let me note that I absolutely do not like to feed the wildlife when they can see me.  I do not want them growing accustomed to me, and I do not want to lessen their fear of humans.  Despite that, this was an urgent exception to that rule in hopes it would protect the cat.

Vazra by that time forgot his own breakfast and was more interested in keeping an eye on the masked bandits.  This was also true of the female cat.  Because her location was far more easily compromised, I couldn’t blame her for not returning to her meal.  She didn’t walk away from it, but neither did she continue eating it.  It would be too much of a diversion when her attention needed to be focused on the four wild animals in close proximity.

Then all seven of us heard it and reacted in kind by turning our attention to more noise approaching from around the corner, although this time it sounded like a single animal.  I believe it was then I muttered something akin to “Oh shit.  What now…”

A large raccoon came around the corner and headed for the family of four.  This time Vazra hissed and backed away from the fence.  His lady friend stood her ground while she watched the raccoon numbers increase to five, two of whom were rather large with the mother being only slightly smaller than the new arrival.

The situation was getting complicated fast.  The cat food outside the fence would certainly tempt them as soon as someone stopped eating long enough to smell it.  How I wish I could get that cat to come onto the patio.

The most recent arrival ate a bit of the nuts and cat food I’d tossed out before turning his attention toward the female cat and her supply.  I noticed this and stepped over behind her (obviously inside the fence).  I know raccoons have no problem approaching a cat, but they would be more apprehensive with me standing there.  I was right; the largest raccoon stopped his approach and looked at me.

It was then I realized the other four raccoons had finished the nuts and cookie and were now in search of other goodies, and they too smelled the cat food.

“Fucking hell!” I said, and this time there was no murmuring about it.  The situation was rapidly spiraling out of control, and it was too late to go back inside for more food as that would leave both cats in danger.

[Part 2]

Not the most restful of mornings

1 Comment

2:43 AM.

Why am I awake this early in the morning?  More importantly, why did I awake so abruptly?  I sleep soundly, but I also remain aware of what’s going on around me and wake at the slightest discrepancy.  A noise.  A movement.  Sometimes only because I have the impression that something is amiss.  It’s my natural alarm that has always served me well in the past.  So why did it go off at 2:43 in the morning?

I look around the bedroom through wide-open eyes and see all of The Kids scattered about.

Kazon is on the pillow next to my face staring at me blankly.  He too wonders why I’m awake at this hour, and he also believes, since I’m awake, that I should not hesitate to pet him.  So I do while continuing to take stock of my environment in an attempt to identify what caused me to rise from the depths of slumber.

Grendel and Kako are curled together in the middle of the bed next to my waist.  Kako is staring at me intently also trying to fathom why I am conscious at this hour.  Grendel only briefly notices me before going back to sleep.

Loki is the only one not on the bed.  He’s sitting next to the patio door looking outside.  I focus on him for a moment, and then I follow his gaze out to the patio.

Could there be some wildlife in the area finishing off last night’s dinner?  Perhaps they made some noise while eating and I awoke in response.  If the last raccoon party of three is any indication, I might even have heard a scuffle break out between the diners given how loud and violent they can get.

A sudden movement catches my eye.  It’s a dark form milling about just outside the fence.  And then I see another, not as dark even in the shadows, who likewise is near the first dark form on the other side of the fence.  I recognize both immediately.

The living shadow of the first creature is Vazra.  I focus on him momentarily.  How odd that he’s here this early in the morning.  His schedule is like clockwork: always here between 5 and 6 in the morning.  Worry overtakes me with tremendous speed.  Is something wrong with him?  Is he hurt?  What caused him to arrive at this hour?

So I turn my attention to the other form moving slowly just a yard (a meter) away from him, and I immediately recognize it is the presumed female Larenti that more and more follows Vazra in the mornings and indulges me by having a bite to eat.  She still is not clear on how to respond to me.  She is, after all, more feral than her friend.  Despite her fear and uncertainty, however, she does talk to me and responds when I talk to her, and she also will eat the food I put outside the fence for her.  There are times when I sincerely believe she asks me for something to eat.  Seeing her with Vazra is not a surprise as I have mentioned before, but again I am forced to ponder why both are here so early in the morning.  This has never happened before.

I rise out of bed and slip on a pair of shorts.  Before I can take a step toward the doors, Vazra leaps atop the fence and drops down the other side onto the patio.  I move toward him as he moves toward me.  Having reached the door, I unlock it, open it, and step outside to the happy feline greetings on the other side.

That’s good.  Vazra sounds fine.  At least, he certainly doesn’t sound wounded.

“Why are you here so early?” I ask with no expectation of a coherent answer, although often I wish I could more clearly understand the outside cats as well as I understand The Kids.  Experience.  That’s the difference.

Vazra rubs against my legs and meows affectionately.  The other cat also speaks a few times in that dishearteningly lonely way she often does.

I reach down and pet my Persian friend while continuing to talk to both of them.  In return, Vazra purrs contentedly, gives me several love bites, and continues to rub against me and talk with joy.  I kneel down and give him plenty of attention.  In the meantime, the other cat has come closer and is also talking.  How I wish she trusted me more.  Perhaps with time…

After several minutes of Vazra soaking up as much attention as he could get with conversation filling the air between the three of us, I stand and promise an immediate return.  I rush back inside and grab fresh food and water for them.  As usual, Vazra meets me at the door and talks and rubs as I carry the bowls out to the patio.  I mentally note how wonderful it is that I can still hear him purring with tremendous glee.

I set the bowls down in the middle of the patio, and then I grab a small handful of food while Vazra digs in.  The other cat is still asking a question I do not yet understand, although I believe at this point that she is asking for a meal, something I dutifully provide by placing some food outside the fence.  The moment I take a few steps back, she moves in and begins eating.

3:00 AM.

Why am I outside feeding the neighborhood cats when I could be inside sleeping?  The answer is simple: because I wouldn’t be able to sleep while they are out here asking for a bit to eat and some water to wash it down.

Both cats eat heartily with much crunching, and Vazra requests — and receives — more attention after he has his fill of food and drink.  The other cat finishes most of the food and immediately begins talking again.  It is that persistent question, that undeniable cry of aloneness.  I wish she trusted me more than she does.

Vazra decides it’s time to go and leaps the fence with ease.  He hops down on the other side and walks comfortably away from me.  The other cat follows him without skipping a beat in her conversation.

I, on the other hand, go back inside and climb back into bed.  Because I know opossums and raccoons will be back through this area before dawn, I take the food and water back inside for safekeeping.

4:33 AM.

Again I wake up, and again I see Vazra on the patio (I do not see the female cat this time, but that does not mean she isn’t out there somewhere close).

In what is a very new development, Vazra is sleeping on the patio.  I do not know where he normally sleeps.  That means seeing him there is an odd thing and beckons to me for action, but I do not wish to disturb him.  He is curled comfortably against the wall directly outside the bedroom windows.  All I need do is roll over and look out to see him there.  I decide not to get up this time and instead go back to sleep.

5:18 AM.

I am again wide-awake, so I look out to the patio and do not see the black Persian where he was sleeping before, so I squirm a bit to get a better look at the rest of the patio.  I find him curled up in the middle of the concrete floor.  He’s sleeping soundly and I do not even get out of bed, but more and more I am curious about this scenario and how it is playing out.  It is a new experience.  And again, I feel a tinge of guilt at not doing something for Vazra, but I can not as yet bring him inside and I dare not disturb him lest I give up the rest of my morning.  So I go back to sleep.

6:02 AM.

The tap-tap-tap of feline claws on the windows wrests me from sleep.  There stands Vazra on the other side of the door.  The instant I move, he meows and looks at me intently.  At this point, there’s no need to think I will get any more sleep, and the last several hours have been anything but restful, so I rise from bed, get more food and water, and step outside for our normal morning routine.  Again he takes his fill of sustenance, washes it down with a healthy drink of water, and requests and receives plenty of attention.  His female friend is not present this time, but I will see her again.

[on a related note, I’ve been unable to capture Vazra; he does not react well to the pet carrier despite my efforts to acclimate him to it; that makes me wonder about his past; irrespective, my efforts continue in that regard so I can get him to the vet and the groomer; depending on his health status, he may well become the official fifth member of The Kids — assuming my plan actually works out; and another thing: it might be time to come up with a name for the female cat; it would certainly help when writing about her, especially if she’s going to continue coming around as much as she has been (at least daily with Vazra); any ideas?]

Job search, cats, and wildlife

Leave a comment

After wallowing in the misery of my inner ear infection last week, an experience I suggest you avoid at all costs, I started this week with the equally painful decision that it was time to look for a job.  Oh, the anguish…  There is still so much to do that can not be done once I go back to work.  Damn it!  But one must pay the bills, n’est-ce pas?  And I have no desire to consume the majority of my nest egg, otherwise I would hesitate not one moment to take off the rest of the year.  Where’s a sugar daddy when you need one?

So, I’ve updated my résumé and have started the depressing search for gainful employment.  I’ll let you know when that bears fruit.

In other news, I saw a new neighborhood cat this morning.  I don’t believe I’ve seen this one before, although had I seen it at night, I would be hard pressed to recognize it during the day.  This cat is like Kako in every way: petite with a sable-like coat that is dark (almost black) on the outside and ivory (almost white) near the skin.  It was a beautiful cat who showed obvious curiosity when I started speaking.  I ran inside briefly to grab some cat food and water to see if I could tempt it into eating/drinking, and when I returned to the patio, it had approached closer to investigate the cup of coffee I left sitting outside.  Much to my dismay, I frightened the poor thing when I stepped back through the door, so it ran off around the corner.  Sometimes I can be so dense…

I’ll keep watch for this new visitor.  Like the plethora of stray and feral cats around here, sometimes I only see them once and they never return.

Vazra did not grace me with his presence today.  It’s not unusual for him to skip a day now and then, but he’s generally consistent in visiting me between 5 and 6 in the morning.  As I’m generally up at that time, or am at least approaching the awake state, this is not a problem.  And should I be sleeping when he arrives, he won’t hesitate to wake me.  Yesterday morning was a new experience in that regard.  I was sleeping late as I’d been up late the night before (more on why in a moment).  Despite having cats talking in my ear and gently touching my face in the hope of waking me up and getting my tired ass out of bed, I remained under the covers and disinterested.  And then it happened.  Somewhere in the fog that exists betwixt sleep and wakefulness, I distinctly heard meowing and gentle tapping on glass.  That woke me up.

I rolled over to look out the patio doors and immediately saw Vazra sitting on the other side peeking in at me.  He was meowing, yes, as that’s his normal calling card, but he was also tapping lightly on the glass with his paw.  Hysterical!  He’d never done that before, so I can only imagine he got frustrated that I wasn’t waking up in response to just the meow, so additional action was necessary.  Well, it obviously worked.  I thought it was terribly cute and entertaining.  “Hey, mister, are you awake?  Now?  Yet?”  Tappity-tappity-tap.  “Are you awake now, mister?”

As for staying up late, I’ve been on the lookout for Momma Possum since her recent return with babies.  Holding vigil on the patio with camera in hand, she oddly enough has failed to make an appearance while I’m awake.  In fact, I’ve not seen any opossums since the night when first I saw she’d come back with her children.  I saw three opossums that night alone, yet since then I’ve seen none.  Sometimes I really believe they’re conspiring against me.  But still I wait and linger into the wee hours of the morning just in case I might catch a glimpse (and, therefore, a photograph) of her.  I would love to get a pic or two that show the babies clinging to her and roughhousing in her pouch.  I’ve not given up yet…

In the meantime, I’ve seen plenty of raccoons.  I even took some photos of a couple of them from the other night.  After they come through, I normally toss a bit more food down in case the opossums come through.  Luckily, even if more raccoons come through before their marsupial neighbors, the masked bandits don’t touch any of the apple that I make available.  That’s good as it leaves something for the opossums (apple is their favorite food).

And speaking of raccoons, last night I saw a very young one come through to grab a bite to eat.  It was smaller than Kako (not by much, but still…).  All alone in the dark of night, it found its way to the dinner table I set and there enjoyed a tasty treat of raw peanuts, raw pecans, red seedless grapes, pineapple, cantaloupe, and cat food (it sat outside too long yesterday and absorbed way too much humidity).  I did not try to take pictures of the little fella/fellerette as this was the first experience it had with me and I didn’t want to scare it.  Instead, I just spoke in hushed tones and watched, making sure it was aware of me and realized I was not going to harm it.  What a cute little beast it was, too.

So, how’s that for a diverse post?

Get out of my personal space

Leave a comment

I’m having a terrible problem with paper wasps (Polistes metricus).  Something about my patio draws them in like moths to a flame.  Mind you, it’s the flame part of that statement that is unfortunately true; I have killed at least 20 of these devils in the last seven days alone.  Nearly every time I step out to the patio I stumble across one or more of them.  In fact, at 5:45 AM today there were two out there when Vazra showed up.

Only after the carnage of the last week did it occur to me I might be demonstrating a bit of psychopathic behavior with regards to these winged visitors.  Paper wasps are rarely aggressive outside of nest disturbances and breaches of personal space.  Sadly, and very much unlike my relationship with the cicada-killer wasps (in the interest of disclosure, also the world’s largest wasp), these red and black wasps are not to be trusted as I’ve been wounded by them on many occasions.  Given an opportunity to build a nest on the patio where I spend quite a bit of time, I’m quite certain things would get very ugly indeed.

That fact also requires me to admit my current disdain for and murderous tendencies toward these flying demons well could be the result of historic altercations.  I’ve never been stung by a cicada-killer.  I’ve been stung many times by paper wasps (and bees and yellow jackets and hornets and ants on and on and on).  That is, of course, how I learned of my own deadly allergy to such stings, an allergic reaction that only presented long after puberty (before that time, such stings were no more than an annoyance to me).

Could my own history with these flyers provide me cause to reach out with violence when I meet a species of insect which has in years before lashed out at me?  I don’t fear the massive cicada-killers.  Why then do I feer the significantly smaller wasps and hornets?  I strongly believe it’s because I fear only those with whom I’ve already experienced a sting.

Then again, cicada-killers don’t try to nest on my patio, and one important thing about bees and wasps is that they react violently when the nest is threatened.  Having a nest of gargantuan wasps only feet outside of my patio is quite different than having one hanging right above my head.  Also, with the fence between me and the former but not the latter, which kind of parent is most likely to strike out if I’m just standing on the patio?  You guessed it.

Perhaps it’s their time of year now, much like the cicada-killers who came and went earlier in the season.  All I know is paper wasp bodies are accumulating rather quickly as I am forced to dispatch them on a daily basis.