Live from Austin!

We now have at least 4 different squirrels visiting us on a regular basis. I know this because I’ve seen all 4 in the garden at once. We put up a squirrel bungee with a corn cob on the end, and often one aboreal rodent will chow at the feed box while another gets some exercise. They occasionally chase each other, but they don’t seem to be too territorial yet; maybe later in the year?

The downside of being the #1 brunch destination for Bouldin Creek squirrels is that between them, the critters can easily go through an entire ear of corn in one day.

We’ve also got more lizards. We found two just outside the back door one night. They were pinkish-white and sitting on white paint, but were otherwise very similar to the brown lizard spotted on the wood floor, so I’m guessing that they are color-changing lizards of some kind.

Finally, we’ve had a couple of sightings of the white peacock which lives with the regular peacocks at the restaurant up the street. It’s strange—it’s like a normal peacock that god built from an Airfix model kit but couldn’t be bothered to paint.

The other day I was playing Splinter Cell: Pandora Tomorrow when I saw something move across the floor near the kitchen.

“Oh crap,” I thought, “Another cockroach.”

I got up and grabbed something to squash it with. But it wasn’t a cockroach—it was a tiny lizard. He was approximately floor colored; brown with light brown stripes. I carefully caught him in a spare perspex dish from the refrigerator. He turned out to have sucker feet, and crawled up the side of it. I let him out in the garden.

So, I think it’s time for an update on the local wildlife.

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It appears I have located another job within IBM. What’s more, it’s one that’s entirely suited to my skill set, in the technical sales part of the organization. My appetite has come back with a vengeance.

On Saturday we went on a day trip to Dallas. Kind of insane if you look at the map, but [rothko] had a business meeting, and I didn’t want her to have to drive for 8 hours given her tendonitis. Plus, I needed some distraction from my work situation.

We met up with [stick_figure] and had some lunch; then [rothko] took the Prius to Arlen—er, Garland—and [stick_figure] and I went to the aquarium.

If you know me, you can probably guess the big appeal of the aquarium: otters. In fact, the Dallas World Aquarium is the only place in the US to have el lobo del rio, the Giant River Otter of the Amazon. You haven’t lived until you’ve seen a 5′ otter.

Dealey Plaza was a strange experience. It’s more or less exactly as it was in 1963. The picket fence is still there, with the car park behind it.

Sara wants pets. I’m allergic to cats, and dogs need a lot of walking. Lizards and birds aren’t cuddly. Spiders can be furry, but we need a pet I can stand to be within sight of. So, our attention has been converging on mustela furo, the domestic ferret.

Of course, first I need to check I’m not allergic to ferrets. It has been known to happen. So tonight we went to an ‘exotic’ pet store, and I handled a ferret. I nuzzled up to it, nose and mouth to fur, and inhaled deeply a few times.

No allergic reaction. Looks like we’re OK to get mustelids once we get that house thing sorted out.

“I don’t buy the tomatoes with the stems on them. They don’t degrade. They go down the sink and into the water. Then they get lodged in the throats of little otters.”

—Christopher Walken in The Observer

With regard to the maze of pain photos doing the rounds…

I don’t like slugs much. One day my mother found one in the garden and wanted me to get rid of it. I knew that salt killed slugs, so I got some salt and put it on the slug.

What I didn’t know was how salt kills slugs.

It’s awful, truly vile, like something out of a sci-fi horror movie. The slug thrashed about, as its innards apparently bubbled through its skin and oozed out over the ground. As I watched the creature’s torment, I almost imagined I could hear it screaming. I felt like some mad Nazi scientist; I couldn’t stop thinking about the thing for several days. I never harmed a slug again.

The 17th National Skunk Show is in Orlando, Florida this weekend. I’ve been checking the web for last minute travel bargains, but I can’t find any. And now matter how cute and fluffy they may be, and no matter how much I might want to go see skunks on show, I can’t justify spending $800 on it right now. Gotta go to Austin next month.

The company working on hypoallergenic cats has stopped the research, as a result of lack of funding. So, no cat for me, dammit.

I suppose I need to try sniffing some ferrets, to see if I’m allergic to them.

It was quite a good day. We were walking home along Mass Ave. Suddenly, I saw him. A skunk. Lying dead on the sidewalk.

From the looks of him, he had been young and healthy. His stripes were a clean white color. His body was intact, and his soft, fluffy fur blew gently in the afternoon breeze. He was utterly still, and clearly very dead, his tail straight and his paws limp. The only sign of injury was a slight trickle of blood from his mouth.

My guess is that someone hit him with their car, stopped, picked him up by the tail, and laid him out on the sidewalk. He was only very slightly stinky, so I’m guessing that he died instantly and didn’t even have time to spray in panic. A few ants were just starting to explore his corpse.

We stood and looked at him for a while. I considered what, if anything, I should do. It seemed like petting him wouldn’t be a good idea, no matter how appealingly fluffy and safely dead he looked. I briefly considered giving him an illegal burial—Massachusetts state law makes it illegal to move skunks, and I expect that applies to dead ones as well as living ones. I decided the benefits didn’t really outweigh the risks.

Then I thought about taking a picture. Somehow it seemed like a rude thing to do. Besides, I want pictures of live skunks, not dead ones.

A passing car slowed down for the traffic lights, and the passengers saw the body. I confirmed to them that yes, it was a skunk. One of them made a surprised comment about how cute it was.

I realized there was nothing to do, really, except leave him there for the city to clean up. Just another dead skunk. Dozens must die on the roads every day, yet still it was a shock, seeing a cute animal lying dead on the sidewalk.

I think the saddest thing, for me, is that that’s the closest I’ve been to a skunk: a dead one.

Sara’s parents have sent me the latest copy of Minnesota Conservation Volunteer, the magazine of the Minnesota Department of Natural Resources. Why? Because the feature article in the latest issue is “The Slinky, Stinky Weasel Family”.

It covers all the weasels found in Minnesota, from the smallest—called, appropriately enough, the Least Weasel—to the largest, the fearsome Wolverine.

The good news for you is that it’s available online. They even have a full color PDF version featuring a weasel crossword!