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RE: Heaters are Going - Day 242 - Haiku - Gratitude for Chance Encounters - #gratitudelog
Ah, my friend. You have such a generous heart. I love the story of meeting the musicians and helping them out, and that the coffee was on the house (on the Universe, per se). I would've felt the same way about wanting to give them a ride, but not feeling quite comfortable enough to do so. As for the cold, I hope you and the animals stay warm. You cracked me up with this one:
or else the cats have hidden them and are holding them ransom for wild caught sardines.
Ha! Also, how do you know how fast those guinea pigs are? You said to ask. ;)
I managed to not-quite-latch the males' cage one day, and by the next morning, I had four little Guinea pigs loose in the enclosure. We had six males at the time.
Only their dad, Donnie Darko, and one young male stayed in the cage.
I caught two fairly quickly, but the others kept eluding me. I caught one the second day, but kept missing the last little guy until the end of the third day . . . man, they are fast little suckers when they're out in the open!
Unfortunately, on another occasion, a couple of the little girls made it out of their cage, and I found out by hearing one squealing as she was being carried off by our cat, Musica. She had made it out by digging under the enclosure, which they can do quickly, where Musica was evidently lying in wait.
I made Musica drop her on the front porch, but she was pretty traumatized, and even though she seemed relatively unharmed when I caught her, she was dead by the following morning.
My fault, not Musica's, as she was just being a cat.
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Yep, if I were a cat I probably would've caught the little one, too. Reminds me of the time my previous dog killed a couple of not-quite-grown chickens at my friend's place. I had an eye on him 'cause I knew the danger, looked away for a second, and he was gone. I felt so bad, but nature what do you do? Nature. A hound being a hound.
Exactly my response when one of my breeding rabbits got loose and Lolo nailed her.
I was upset, but I couldn't get mad at him, because he did his job . . . being a dog . . . perfectly.
Again, my responsibility to see to it that she couldn't get out in the first place. Damn.
And, precisely why I don't free range my ducks and chickens. They'd never stand a chance.