the urban menagerie grows. I was just standing at the front door the other day when I heard some familiar screeching. Then plop, plop plop, and down three lumps came from the big oak in the creek. I grabbed my camera and before I knew it was snapping shots of these babies. The third one managed to get back in the nest. These two got caught out, and crashed adorably until dark on a branch, but my pics are all fuzzy. Last night I saw Mom and all three climb out and up the tree but didn't make it in time to get a good pic. I talked to them but they looked at me like who is this WEIRD human thing on the ground attempting to make raccoon noises. I shall get them all eventually.

SNAIL Babies

Okay, I know everyone's really concerned about the progress of the snail eggs. Postcards and letters from wellwishers are piling up on my doorstep, I can't possibly answer everyone's email personally, and the Oprah people called yesterday. still and all, here's an update. Yesterday when I left for work I pointed out to the housekeeper that the snails were doing it again. He seemed stunned, (tho I would have thought he'd be familiar with that whole Greek angle). Last night I dreamed that I was pregnant, and this baby kept popping partly out of my stomach (yes, my stomach; I had C-sections - some things screw up your dreams) and I kept trying to get him to GET BACK IN THERE, DAMMIT, It's not TIME!) When I got up this morning I discovered not only a third clutch of eggs (did I tell you about the second one?) but actually caught the yellow one (and this is confusing because he's always on top, yet he seems to be the one making babies) in the process of depositing a fourth. Which nearly made me late for an audition, I was so engrossed in stupidly watching this SNAIL LAY EGGS. One of the websites I visited said a) they may not be fertile and b) I should be flattered that snails have chosen to lay eggs in my tank - evidently I'm a good snail hostess. But when I got home, the first (last post) clutch, sure enough, has begun to change color, as the eggs mature into baby snails.

I am beside myself with maternal pride.

Interracial Snail Sex

I've been de-Dallas-ing tap water for several days and saving it in big bowls and pans in order to have plenty ready for a big water change in the fish tank. This morning I finally got started, went to the tank and found this very strange growth on the glass and realized pretty quickly it was a clutch of snail eggs. Went to read up on them, and realized it might not be such a good idea to clean the tank right now cause they'll need plenty of algae to eat when they're born - went back and found the two snails above uhm, fornicating? I don't know what they're doing but it looks like fun.

And then I backed up and got a shot of both snails doing it and the results of SOMEbody's previous antics. What's the vote, should I still clean (with the gravel poo sucker upper) the tank?

Roger R

Miss Pam caught me in one of my rare daylight outings. She doesn't have a clue why the image has those funny lines but she thinks it's kind of a neat effect (click on it, it's clearer when larger). Actually she thinks I might be Roger Jr., or possibly Rogerina. The dogs are always trying to catch me and/or my parents with, after ten years, no success whatsoever. We may be slow but we're tough and can climb WAY up high in the trees.

Can We Talk?

Listen, I appreciate the scratches, the daily dose of hairball preventative and all that, but darlin', you're spending way too much time on the Internet.

The Farmer in Ecstasy

I always knew I was good for SOMEthing. Note the smile on her face.

Timothy the Terrible

Miss Pam had not yet pur-chased her camera (see http://thewriteactor.blogspot.com/2006/03/god-spake-to-pam.html ) when I walked across the concrete floor of her den.

She was pretty astounded to see a tarantula the size of her palm casually strolling toward the TV (hmmm, what was on?) so she captured me in a large flower vase and took a video with her cell phone. Thus the freeze frame/transferred/exported/blurry image. For my part, despite my tiny brain, I didn't know about the menagerie, else I would never have ventured into the small creature harm's way that is Miss Pam's house. Luckily, after admiring me for a few minutes, and unable to find a fly for my dinner, she took me across the bridge and released me, thump, into the poison ivy on the opposite bank of the creek.

She Hopes I'm Okay

Today Pam took a possum rehabbing seminar. She thought maybe she'd meet some new men but it was mostly couples and lesbians. Oh well. It was still great fun. Then when she got home her friend said, why in the WORLD do you did you do this and she couldn't come up with an answer but then she saw Sparkle stalk something just out of her line of sight and then POUNCE. And it was me, one of the dozen mourning dove that have been visiting regularly since the Republican humans built the Wal-Mart out on I-30 and ALL that other construction and we've been forced out of our plains habitats into the city. Anyway, she feeds us. But her cat Sparkle caught me. Pam picked me up gently and placed me on top of this ladder and then she gave me a little food. And she said to her friend, "I think maybe that even as I live on this creek and feed the wildlife, I feel guilty that every once in awhile one of my animals catches the wildlife that I'm feeding. There's something operating here that I just can't figure out." Anyway, Pam, worried that my mate wouldn't be able to find me, thought she'd put me in the brush by the creek, but I was able to hop off and into some bushes and eventually she gave up, said a little prayer and now I'm not telling anybody where I am, so there.

Hey Babe

Am I not cool? See my glinty eye and casual demeanor? Sort of Johnny Depp-ish, yes? Don't you want to go behind the woodpile with me?

sparkle on russ's chair

hello, I'm sparkle, we haven't met. I was called Speckle but the little boy next door (now a grown up young man) had a bit of a speech defect and couldn't say speckle, so they changed my name. I like Sparkle better; it works. I'm about, oh, 11 and somewhat diminuitive. I like Tasha but Farmboy annoys me. Scratch me and my butt goes straight up into the air. I'm quiet and sweet and today I caught a dove that Miss Pam took away from me.

Sam the Slug

At first Pam thought I was just another hairball. Alas, no, I am the biggest slug she's ever seen and she still can't figure out how I got all the way into her office.

Ahhhhh, that feels tingly!

A simple demand for attention. Always works.