I was sound asleep when last night's fight took place, but Ed heard it. More distant, but audible. Same problem: an animal comes, Pancake is attacked. (Or is it that Pancake attacks to defend his space?) And in the morning I see the results: our porch feral is even more beaten up, scratched, gashed, wounded. He doesn't even come out of his little enclosure for food. Eventually I coax him out for some water. (He says "no thanks" to food.)
I tell Ed - we have to do something! But of course, there is no solution. Unless we bring Pancake inside (not gonna happen -- he's really feral!), he has got to brave the menacing world out there. And maybe that is his fate? Maybe it's in his genes to keep fighting? This morning, as I walked to the barn to feed the chickens, I saw him come out of the porch and follow me at his usual distance. (He does this every morning.) And then he disappeared. For mny hours. It's cold outside, he's wounded and yet he chose to leave his warm enclosure (we have a heated blanket inside).
The day is on the miserable weather side of things. Light snow turning to rain. I wouldn't mind, except I'm really missing the early crocuses this year! Even the Helleborus is completely dormant here, in Wisconsin. And the snowdrops? Blooming profusely... in England. No sign of them in my yard.
(Here's our healthy and very pretty sheep shed cat -- Tuxie.)
(snow, eventually changing to rain...)
Breakfast. Dance, Ed, me. Granola, fruit, coffee. It's a winning combination.
Afterwards, I read.
And drive over to my clinic to test for measles antibodies. Not sure if I had an effective vaccination and my doc told me that my travels make me a candidate for upping my protection thanks to the antivaxxers out there.
Which brings me to this question: in listening to a report on NPR on the consequences of suddenly canceling USAID programs that give humanitarian and especially medical aid to those in need of it, I learned that on the average, those life saving programs (and I mean really life saving... for millions of people) -- they cost $38 per American household per year. And I want to ask those who are chortling with glee over the removal of aid (to a child with TB or malaria or HIV) -- would you not want to hand over $38 if it really could save a child? Even if it meant you'd have to give up something meaningful to you, like, say, one ice cream treat (!!) for the family. (It costs me $12 to buy two single scoop ice creams for the two kids at the Chocolate Shoppe here, in the dairy-land state.)
Speaking of kids, time to pick up my two grands. It's pajama day in school once again.
We have a quick turnaround, because the girl has to be at her Shakespeare production (she is tech crew tonight) by 4. The upside of it is that I get to hand over Sparrow to the parents over at Barrique's coffee shop and so we have a chance to pause and summarize the week behind us.
The sun comes out as I drive home. You have no idea how good it is to see it poking through, between leftover puffy clouds! We're going to have a fine weekend and a spectacular week! Blue skies and of course, daylight savings time. Leaving behind the vestiges of winter, leaping forward into spring.
with love...
