Critters and Humans

Critters and Humans

Birds and animals interact with humans when there is something they need. I’ve got stories on this blog about some of these critters and will refer to them in this piece.

My grandpa had a quarter section of land in the desert just west of San Simon, Arizona. There was a tiny house, just a couple of rooms there, and he would sometimes spend the night.  Grandpa saw a roadrunner near the house a few times, so he would throw table scraps into the yard for the bird. As he spent more time at the house, he saw more of the roadrunner, so he bought a sack of bird feed and began putting some out every morning just after dawn. The roadrunner began to expect the feed at the same time every day. If Grandpa was late getting up, the roadrunner would hop up onto the window ledge to wake him. Smart bird!

We have seen the crows do things to get our attention, too. Once, Lame Foot pecked on the screen door to let us know it was chow time. The crows sometimes do a  fly-by. They fly below the height of the windows so they can look in and see us, and we can see them as well.  Most of the time, they just walk around on the driveway and squawk.

Our cat, Isabella, used a non-verbal way of letting me know it was bedtime. About 8:30 PM, she would go to the place where the hall entered the living room. She would sit back on her haunches and stare at me until I acknowledged her. Then, she would head down the hall to our home office which was her bedroom and lay down. I followed her in, scratched her forehead and ears and rubbed the bridge of her nose and then I told her goodnight.

My cousin, Vivian, had a box tortoise that showed up every morning and parked itself in the same spot by her door. She saw it eating out of a cat food can she had put out, so she bought some small cans of food for it. The tortoise was large enough to reach over the side of the can and take a bite, so it worked out fine.

Pat and I were babysitting a parrot named “Highpockets” for some friends who were on a vacation. Some parrots have a lot to say, and Highpockets was one of them. One evening, we were eating some grapes, and Pat said, “I wonder if Highpockets wants a grape?” I said, “I don’t know if parrots eat grapes.” Highpockets said, “I like grapes!” Another time, I got up at about 5:30 AM and went downstairs. Highpockets’ cage was covered, and I tried to slip past without waking him. I just wanted a cup of coffee with no hassle. As I tiptoed past, a voice from the cage asked, “Is anybody there???”

It’s time for fun!!

Let’s have a good time! Turn to your Amazon Dot device and say, “Alexa, play Boot Scootin Boogie by Brooks and Dunn!”

Dave Thomas

11/29/2025

Update on Our Crow Friends

Updates to Our Crow Friends

A neighbor came over to discuss the crow situation. I didn’t know we had a crow situation, but he filled me in. He said that one of his neighbors had a new baby and that the crows showing up right after 6:00 am were waking the baby.  He said that he and his wife were soon to have their own new baby, and they were afraid the noisy crows would be waking her as well. I thought this was a bogus call on his part as babies can get used to a railroad track running past the house. I didn’t say so because the guy was apologetic and well-mannered. I commiserated with him and said we didn’t want to cause trouble in the neighborhood, so we’d do whatever it took. After he left, I told Pat about it. She was quite upset. She had earned the trust of the crows and made friends with them. They recognized her, answered her calls by flying in, followed her car when she left the house, and even came down and visited with her on social calls with no food involved. They also recognized our daughter, Terri, and her car as well. Pat didn’t want to do anything that would upset her relationship with the crows.

A few days later, the neighbor came back and brought his wife and daughter with him. We invited them in and had a nice talk about the “situation.” They suggested that Pat feed the crows later in the day at 3:00 pm, and she agreed to give it a try, but she later decided she would feed them at 2:00 PM instead of 3:00 so she could maintain some since of control of the “situation.”  It took a few days, but they adapted to the new time.

The season and the weather changed, and it must have become harder for the crows to find food. Now, we sometimes have as many as 30 of them showing up at mealtimes.

Our granddaughter, who also lives in the neighborhood, needed to find a house that would suit her family better, so she called a local realtor. The realtor, who turned out to be our neighbor guy, went to our granddaughter’s home. “So you already live in the neighborhood,” he says. “Yes,” she says. “Do you know the crow lady,” he asks. “Yes,” she says. “She is my grandma.” It’s a small world.

Lame Foot and Bouncer are still showing up on a regular basis. Lame Foot doesn’t seem to be doing as well as before. He has always hopped on one leg, just using his bad leg for balance when he stopped. Now, he seems to run out of energy and falls over frequently. We don’t know if he is just older or if he is sick. His feathers don’t look as shiny as they should. Hope he’s okay.

Dave Thomas

11/20/2025

Hey, It’s About Hay

I don’t have a current story, so I will try to find something in memory that will interest you. After school was out in our junior year (1953) and senior year (1954) of high school, John Luding and I spent 2 or weeks baling hay. The end of May and early June was the time the alfalfa crops had grown high enough for the first cutting of the summer. John and I hired out to Paul Slagle, a contract baler, to get that first cutting taken care of. The alfalfa was cut or mowed by a mowing machine pulled by a tractor. Paul Slagle’s job was normally to cut, rake, bale, and stack the hay. If the farmer had the time and the implements, he might do the cutting and raking himself. After that initial work was done, Slagle would use his tractor and baling machine to bale the hay. If I recall correctly, Slagle had a Massey-Harris tractor and a New Holland (string-tie) baler.

To digress for a moment, baling machines originally used baling wire, but were later converted to string rather than wire.

After the alfalfa had been cut, it was then raked into a line as long as the field so it could be picked up by the baling machine. The tractor was continually moving forward so the bales of alfalfa were dropped several yards apart. Next, a tractor pulling a 4-wheel trailer came along and the bales were loaded aboard it.

Johnny and I were the guys that picked up the bales and loaded them onto the trailer. One of us would drive the tractor while the other walked alongside the trailer. When you came to a bale, you would reach down and snag it with your hay hook and pitch it aboard the trailer. When the floor of the trailer got crowded, the driver would stop the tractor, and both guys would neatly stack the bales to where they were 4 or 5 high (I forget which).

When the trailer was fully loaded, we would drive to the place where the farmer wanted the haystack, or we would take it and put it in the hay loft or barn.

If the hay was to be put in the loft, we pulled the trailer up close to the barn. One guy would get on the trailer, and the other would get in the doorway of the loft. The guy on the trailer would use his hay-hook to snag a bale and would raise it up as high as he could. The guy in the loft would reach down with his hay-hook and snag the bale and jerk it up onto the floor of the loft. Yes, this was work! When the floor of the loft got crowded, both guys would stack the hay until it was up to the rafters.

This was real work, but we gloried in it.

To be standing in a field just after dawn, with the sun coming up, the sky turning blue, a light summer breeze blowing, and the wonderful smell of that fresh cut alfalfa was heaven. Sweating and then feeling your muscles responding to every command made you feel alive. I loved it, and, to this day, I can smell the aroma of that newly cut alfalfa.

Dave Thomas

11/13/2025

Be Creative

Some cooks go nuts if you try to add salt and pepper or any kind of seasoning to the dishes they have prepared. These cooks think of themselves as artists and don’t believe we earthlings are qualified to mess with the dishes they have prepared. My mom had a more common-sense approach to this problem. She said to us and any newcomers to the table, “I have prepared a well-balanced meal that will maintain your good health. If you think that modifying the seasoning will give you greater pleasure, then that’s what you should do. The only thing of importance is that you eat the food.” She always had salt, pepper, butter, garlic powder, chili powder, relish, mayo, horse radish, Worcestershire sauce, and catsup available for those who wanted it.

I’ve noticed that some people are real snobs when it comes to catsup. Mom always had a bottle of catsup on the table and encouraged us to use it. We certainly did. For those of you not lucky enough to be raised in a catsup-household, I’ll list a few items that can benefit from that wonderful red stuff. If you start the day with bacon and eggs and hash browns, give those potatoes a big dollop, and if some slops over onto the eggs, it will jazz them up as well. Hamburgers, French fries, hot dogs, hash, roast beef, beef Stroganoff, chicken and noodles, navy beans, vegetable soup, chili, potato cakes and liver all taste better with catsup. My mom loved liver and insisted that we eat it to prevent anemia. Just looking at the stuff made me gag, but I learned that smothering it in catsup made it bearable.

Be creative and enjoy every meal.

Dave Thomas

11/6/2025

My Forty Years of Playing Defense

My Forty Years of Playing Defense

I spent forty years commuting on San Diego freeways. Most of the time, it was a humdrum existence. My time on the road was just spent driving and listening to the news or country music. Once in a while, though, things got tough, and I had to get serious real quick. The problems came from folks who really should have been classified as “opponents.” Most were just drivers who weren’t paying attention. The others were usually construction guys or people who were moving.

The movers were people who were moving to a new home or those who had just purchased furniture with no truck and so they had to use their car to transport their new item. I frequently saw chairs, dressers, and rugs on the freeway. Once in a while, there would be a family that had just purchased a new mattress and tried lashing it to the roof of the car. That didn’t ordinarily go too well. I once had to dodge a washing machine that had escaped from its source of transportation.

The construction guys were the worst. I have dodged ladders, buckets, sawhorses, bags of cement, hoses, and a lot of other stuff. It’s quite exciting when a white cloud appears in front of you, indicating that someone has just struck a bag of cement. My worst moment was when a Bobcat came off the back of a truck. A Bobcat is a small tractor used in construction work. Fortunately, the Bobcat broke off into the right lane, and I was able to dart into the left lane.

As you can see, commuting can be very exciting, and, fortunately, I never peed my pants.

Dave Thomas

10/30/2025

Streisand

Streisand

We watched Barbra Streisand on PBS the other night. She is still the best and the most interesting singer we have ever had. When she goes after a note, you don’t know where she’s heading, but when she gets there, it is right and pure.

Dave Thomas

10/23/2025

Ms. Rambo and the Fox (Repost!)

Pat and I were sitting in the swing and talking about Ms. Rambo, a cat we had for several years. We have a lot of stories about her that we tell and re-tell and never get tired of.

The street we lived on was just a block long. It was a very steep hill ending at the top with a regular cul de sac type turn-around. We lived at the bottom of the hill and up at the top lived a family that had a white cat. Being all white, the cat stood out and you could spot her wherever she was in the neighborhood. One day the family moved out and just left the cat to fend for herself. We would see her up and down the block looking for food and taking care of herself. We heard stories from the neighbors of what a hunter she was and how independent and tough she was. We all felt sorry that she had been abandoned but she seemed to be surviving and doing okay.

The cat soon had a route established to cover the block in search of hand-outs. She was checking our back door so Pat started putting out food and water. Our house became a regular stop on the cat’s route and Pat enjoyed seeing her and always talked to her. This went on for a few months until the cat decided to change the game. It was raining one evening which is unusual for San Diego. I had just gone to bed and Pat was finishing up before she, too, headed upstairs. All of a sudden, Pat heard a squalling noise at the front door. It was that loud, eerie noise a cat makes when it has made a kill. Pat opened the door and there stood this wet cat with a rat in its mouth. The cat steps in and drops the rat at Pat’s feet and walks on into the living room. The rat is wounded but it jumps up and waddles off. Pat is yelling for me to get up and help catch the rat and she is checking to see what the cat is doing. The cat is calmly sitting in the middle of the living room and watching Pat go nuts and then watching me go nuts as I try to catch the rat. Fortunately, the rat is lame and I’m able to catch it and get rid of it. Pat and I look at the cat and talk about her and figure that she must have gotten tired of living in the rain and scrounging for food and trying to survive as a homeless person and decided to adopt us. She was smart enough to offer up the rat to pay her way in. 

After work the next evening we were trying to assess what we had. This cat was slim and wiry and built like a Siamese. When she vocalized a “kill”, it sounded like a Siamese. She was pure white but wasn’t an albino because her eyes were kind of a blue-green rather than pink. She’d been taking care of herself for months without the coyotes getting her so she was smart and tough. I tried to play with her and teased her and ended up with tooth and claw marks in my hand and arm so we understood that she would demand respect. Discussing what to name her, it was her fierce fighting ability and independence that caused us to think of the latest “tough guy” movie we had seen so we called her “Rambo”. Then, remembering she was a girl, we modified it to “Ms. Rambo”.

This little cat only weighed 7 or 8 pounds but she was extremely athletic. She liked to sleep on top of the refrigerator where nobody could bother her. Most of the time she would jump from the counter top but if there was anything in the way there she could jump from the floor! Pat had a big fruit bowl that she kept on top of the fridge and Rambo took it over for her naps. 

Ms. Rambo

One day we were afraid she might have a kidney infection. We couldn’t get in to see our regular Vet so we went to another. Once we were in the examining room we took her out of the carrier we had brought her in and placed her on the examining table. Pat and I were both petting her and talking to her so she was quiet. The Vet comes in and he’s a big dude, 6’3″ or 6’4″ tall. We explain the symptoms she’s displayed and the Vet says he will take her to the back and get a urine sample. Pat and I both volunteer to go with them. We tell him that she’s called Ms. Rambo for a reason and that other Vets put a muzzle and one of those straight jacket things on her when handling her. Well, the Vet draws himself up to his full height, looks down his nose at us and says “I think I can handle this little, tiny cat.” Pat and I look at each other and we’re both thinking “OK, Bud…we tried to warn you!” The Vet picked up Ms. Rambo and that’s when things got tough! She started screaming, biting, and clawing and the Vet looked like a man possessed. He and Rambo were everywhere. He finally got her tucked under one arm and went out the door with her. Pat and I about busted a gut, laughing, and were completely out of control for a while. Later, a technician brought Ms. Rambo back in and she was wearing a muzzle and one of those straight jackets and had a big towel wrapped around her, too. They finally got the message.

I had to tell you a little bit about Ms. Rambo so you could get the full flavor of this next incident.

I wasn’t home from work, yet. Pat was just getting there and as she rounded the corner, she saw several groups of neighbors standing out in front of their homes. They were looking up the hill, and talking excitedly to one another. We lived in the first house from the corner, at the bottom of the hill, so Pat pulled into our driveway and got out of the car. She yelled at our next door neighbors who were standing out on their drive and asked what was going on. They said that several neighbors had been out in their front yards doing yard work or doing things with their kids and they saw our cat, Ms. Rambo, coming down the hill. Apparently she had been hunting up at the top of the hill and was going from yard to yard as she returned to our house. A few minutes after seeing Rambo, they saw the  neighborhood fox coming down the hill and it seemed to be following Rambo’s scent. The neighbors all thought that would be the end of Ms. Rambo. Sure enough, all of a sudden there was a terrible commotion! There were cat screams, snarls, hisses, and growls. Then, it all changed to a kind of yelping noise and suddenly, here comes the fox up the middle of the street and he is running for his life! Now, everyone can see what is happening. Ms. Rambo is astride the fox’s back with claws dug in and is riding him like a jockey! Go, Rambo, go! The neighbors say it’s the funniest thing they have ever seen. That fox is running for his life and Ms. Rambo is raking him at every jump! This is how legends are born.

This was not Ms. Rambo’s only wild ride nor her last wild and crazy exploit! More later.

Dave Thomas
October 26, 2014

Iwo Jima

I just finished listening to a fascinating book on CD. The book, Flags of Our Fathers, was written by James Bradley and Ron Powers. After his dad died in 1995, Bradley wanted to know what his dad had done in the battle of Iwo Jima. The Battle of Iwo Jima cost the lives of 6,821 Americans and 21,900 Japanese. The book tells of the battle and the photograph of the raising of the flag on Mount Suribachi. The profile of the senior Bradley is the only recognizable face in the picture of the flag raising. The surprise is that the famous picture is actually of the second flag raising on the extinct volcano.

In the past, I had read about Ira Hayes, the Pima Indian in the picture, and of Joe Rosenthal, the photographer. It was interesting to learn about the other men.

If you are a young person and weren’t around in 1945 for the Battle of Iwo Jima, there are a couple of names that will help you get connected with the battle story. Lee Marvin, the actor, was a 17-year-old Marine who was wounded at Iwo Jima. He ended up with (no pun intended) shrapnel in his butt. Another participating Marine was Bob Keeshan, later known as “Captain Kangaroo.”  Lee Marvin was quoted as saying “Bob Keeshan was the bravest man I ever met.”

Iwo Jima is in the Pacific Ocean, halfway between Guam and Japan. In 1959, VP-48, my seaplane squadron, was deployed to Japan. Our pilot and navigator filed a flight plan that flew us over Iwo Jima. It was exciting to finally get to see it, but if not for its strategic value, it’s nothing to shout about. It’s 8 square miles of island with an ugly extinct volcano on it.

Several people died in the Battle of Iwo Jima. It’s quite a story. Give it a shot!

Dave Thomas

9/11/2025

Okay, I’m Livin’ in the Past

I’ve been sitting here while listening to Ronnie Milsap and Charlie Rich. I miss the country-western singers from the 1960’s through the 1990’s. There were a lot of them, and they were good. Besides the music, there were some colorful characters, too. It was fun. We just lost Kris, and that only leaves people like Dolly and Willie.

Dave Thomas

9/11/2025