Oh, Max, Poor Max

Friday, April 30, 2021 (26 days before May’s full “Flower Moon” appears at its fullest)

Today’s header photo shows why my inside-outside kitty, Max, has been throughout April an inside-only guy. His status quo will continue through May. The pictured bunny is a first-time mama with a brood nesting under my barn’s haystack. Last May, after her birth beneath that stack, I spotted the teeny-tiny with big ears hopping under a hedge, and knew my Max, expert hunter of baby bunnies, needed corralling.

Max was miserable during two months of quarantine. His days consisted of sleeping, or sitting in a window and watching wildlife, or being under my feet. During Max’s imprisonment, other cats invaded his territory, until finally, time came to free my guy.

Fortunately, bunny had gained enough experience and strength to escape cats. Max frequented the haystack where daily the bunny left clear signs of habitation. He didn’t catch her, but occasionally from a distance, they’d spot one other. Both would become rock-still, until suddenly, Bunny would take off, leaving a frustrated cat searching.

Weeks ago when I saw our bunny romping with another which might forecast babies on the horizon. I corralled Max, and soon sure enough, a teeny tiny appeared. Just like its mom last year, it hopped under a bush and escaped more quickly than I could grab a photo.

Having Max sequestered offers more rewards. There’s a blossoming of small critters, more lizards, more chipmunks, and maybe more birds peck around on the property. There are questions of letting Max outside again, but he’s nearing fifteen years old, and totally was outside through his first ten years. When always inside, Max is a restless nuisance, and frankly, I’ll be relieved when he’s outside during the days.

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I’m here switching topics, and happily, because I’m realizing that I can learn!, even something seemingly way beyond my reach. I have written about attempting to repair a fence in the horse loafing shed. I had a mighty struggle in measuring and trimming wood accurately enough to fit a replacement slat into its space. Completing one slat consumed nearly three hours. I didn’t want to finish the job.

But had to. I knew that all my previously-cut boards were inaccurate for the allocated spaces. First, I promptly re-measured and re-trimmed. Next, I pre-planned by lining up the right tools and connectors. Then I returned to the job and completed it within an hour, and by the way correctly.

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Dear Friends: Maybe this story has lessons, to trust nature and capacity, and never give up. Diana