in the still of the night

Our back yard looks like the inter-state of animal tracks. Tracks criss-cross the yard as if we are a convention center. Oh yeah, Pat and I feed the animals. During the summer, the bird feeders need refilling every day, sometime twice or three times. The winter should be different. Most of our winged friends are in warmer climes down south, or wherever they go. Maybe it’s Miami; after all, Miami is the answer to the joke of where are Ohio’s millionaires. But once again I’m wandering into another subject. I shouldn’t have to refill empty birdfeeders in the winter. Thinking it was the squirrels, we threw a bunch of feed on the ground in various spots in the yard. No luck.

A couple of days ago I went to turn off the back yard Christmas lights. I wasn’t paying attention, it was one in the morning and I wasn’t dressed for the cold; heck, I was wearing slippers. Well, I don’t know who was more surprised when I opened the door, me or the two deer on the patio. I ran to get a camera and the deer didn’t want to get their pictures taken so they probably ran to their lawyers.

Ah ha, I thought. I have bumped into the culprit. Now I needed to figure out how to get a picture, with a pocket camera. I quickly discarded the idea of bundling up and sitting outside all night waiting. I had visions of Pat poking me in the morning and realizing I wasn’t doing my John Mills Scott of the Antarctic imitation. Better to stay nice and comfy in the house and poke my head out in the wee hours of the morning.

It worked. I caught them in the act. Now I have to figure out how to raise the bird feeders out of reach of the deer. If I put them in the trees the squirrels will think that we started a delivery service.