PARTING . . . “SUCH SWEET SORROW” – AND OTHER TALES

Moping Nellie pretends to nap

Nellie was overjoyed to greet Hallie again on Sunday morning. She was hopeful of a nice treat – one of the "pig ears" Hallie brought especially for her, but alas! The pig ears were all gone and Nellie had to settle for a common dog treat – not quite the same thing.

We have discussed that Nellie knows Hallie belongs to the family. "The DNA scent is right," explained Hallie. And Nellie and Hallie bonded in the few precious puppy months before Hallie graduated from U-I and her home visits were less frequent.

Somehow, as Sunday morning progressed, Nellie knew this was the day – the day that Hallie and Nick would leave. How does she know? – we wondered. There were no suitcases in evidence. But it was obvious from her demeanor that she did indeed know. As Hallie gave me last minute instructions on the new blog lay-out, Nellie was lying glumly at her feet. During final leave-taking in the house, she rested her head gently on Hallie's knee. As the humans left the house for outdoor hugs and handshakes and "come back soons," Nellie stayed back in the house.

"I can tell you exactly what she'll do when you leave," I told Hallie. "She'll lie on her pillow and pretend to nap but mostly she'll be moping. This afternoon she'll perk up a bit, say 'oh well,' and insist on a trip to the beach for a refreshing swim. By the time the day is over, she will have accepted that it's once again the three of us." This proved to be the case.

Hummingbird on wire in garage

So, Mike and I spent a few days in town doing "town business," and this morning we began to pack the Dakota, parked in the shed, for the trip back to the farmhouse. "What's that noise?" I asked Mike. Looking up, we saw a hummingbird fluttering his wings against the white insulation in the ceiling. With the light from the open garage doors reflecting against the white vinyl coating on the insulation, the poor thing could not find his way out. He kept looking up. We made a few initial efforts with a broom and a ladder to encourage him to fly down and out. He just didn't get it.

Mike tries to sweep bird out door

"it's survival of the smartest . . . " said Mike. The comment seemed a little harsh to me. Mike so enjoys watching the hummingbirds at the feeders on the farm. But I had to agree that we could invest a lot of time in this dilemma, only to be disappointed in the end. I was slightly amused but not too surprised on my next trip to the Dakota to find Mike once again attempting to encourage the little creature to fly out of the pole barn garage. He gave it up several times, but another idea would occur to him and he'd try again. He took his Moss Point Tiger beach towel and covered the window, closed the garage doors and left the side door open, thinking the hummingbird would migrate toward the light source. No such luck. Mike used a stool, a 6-foot ladder, and a 15-foot ladder. He used a broom and a pole and then attached the broom to the pole. In the end, he was able to catch the hummingbird in his hand from the 15-foot ladder and then released him into the sky. We watched him soar freely, higher and higher, turn and head back, then turn to the south and fly off. Hopefully he remembered where to find a feeder or nectar source. I'm sure he was hungry and exhausted. Mike worked at least half an hour to free the hummingbird from the garage. Yes, we hit the "easy button."

Now we were ready to leave the house for the farm. Mike had decided to ride his Yamaha XT-whatever road/trail bike because he wanted it at the farm while I drove the Dakota. I went one way to stop at the produce mart on my way out of town while Mike went on ahead. Once my errands were completed and I was out on the highway, it occurred to me that I should be watching for Mike at the side of the road – just in case he had a problem. (I have been known to drive right by as he frantically attempted to wave me down. I have also been known to drive off as he yells for me to stop.) Just then I saw him. I recognized the man and the shirt and pulled onto the shoulder. He had lost compression – a mystery as to why – and was indeed stranded by the side of the road. We were just at the point where the bike path ends, within a mile from the casino. So we drove on to the casino service station and bought some oil. Mike was unable to get the motor started, so we went back to town and arranged for the good folks at the Yamaha shop to pick the bike up. We came on to the farm in the Dakota.

Today feels as though it has been two days. KW