Woo Hoo! Nemo, wake up, what’s that noise?
Go back to sleep, Huck. It’s the blackbird migration. Thousands of birds stop here on their way south to eat the grain left in the corn field.
Nemo, I’m not going outside this morning, we haven’t had harvest yet. The corn and soybeans are still standing waiting for the fields to dry out. Remember Momma Dog watching the Alfred Hitchcock movie, “The Birds”? They’re omnivores! They eat anything!
Right Huck, we won’t go out until we hear the combines.

Frost this morning! Woo hoo, what a circus we had around here last night. Of course it was due to the “royal mouth” again. Huck chased a young opposum under the back deck, crawled in after it and would not come out. He stayed under there until ten p.m. even though Momma Dog went out every thirty minutes and called him, finally getting her flashlight to make sure he was still under there and not out in the woods somewhere. The opposum, being one of the few things smaller than Huck, slipped away from him though the design work and finally, Huck opted for a warm bed inside. I, for one, was glad to see him so I could finally go to bed. While he was out pursuing some uneatable thing, I wore myself out protecting the family just in case his bigger cousin showed up. Sometime in the night though, the opposum returned and ate the rest of the cat food from the feeeder. Surprisingly, cats and opposums seem to get along, Momma Dog has seen them eating together.
After 24 hours of cold rain, we are out this morning on a search for bittersweet. Momma Dog uses it to decorate our house in autumn. This year it is growing too far up in the tree for hand picking. Even though I gave my very highest jump I could not reach it and Huck was of no use at all. Bark, bark, bark, man that dog has a mouth on him! He’s claiming he scented a deer and we did find tracks in the mud later, but I didn’t smell it. I’m glad for my thick fur as it is only 38 degrees out here with a windchill in the twenties. Two of the cats, Hillside Kitty and July took the trek with us, but they are more interested in winding in and out of Momma Dog’s legs on the steep part of the hill than hunting deer.