Country Living

When we moved up to the New Hampshire woods, it took me a while to adapt. Now that I've lived here nearly 18 years (!), I've come to love everything about living in my quiet little hamlet, including connecting with nature. But lately, things have become a little too wild for my taste.

Last year, we were inundated with an abundance of animals. It seemed every week I was looking into the backyard and finding not just one turkey, but 20, not just a few blackbirds, but 100. Years ago, our dog Smokey chased a Fisher Cat up a tree (he was very lucky if you know anything about Fisher Cats), we’ve been told about area moose sightings, and we hear coyotes off in the distance. The animal list goes on and on. I know they’re out there, but I want them to stay in the woods and out of my yard. Birds, chipmunks, rabbits, even the occasional deer are fine with me, but when we met Mr. Bear last spring, I started to get a little uneasy. After all, I have two furry sons to worry about and they like to "play" with just about anything that appears in our yard. We've even gone to the extent of installing an electric fence so the dogs can only play in the grassed in area of our property. They can't go beyond the tree line unless they want a little reminder that the woods are forbidden territory.

But, last week, Mr. Bear made another appearance and this time it was personal. The feeder was back up a bit earlier than it should have been (I know, I know. My warm-weather bird watching days are definitely over.), and this time he took the feeder - and the post that holds up the pergola with it. And just this morning, Dante snuck up on a porcupine and got a mouthful of quills. Poor baby. Hubby and I rushed him to the animal hospital to have the quills removed and he is sleeping soundly beside me. We will now leash and walk the dogs in the yard when the sun goes down and before it comes up just to be on the safe side.

Country living may be for the birds after all. It will certainly have me running to and from my car carrying a big flashlight and singing at the top of my lungs for a while. Hubby didn’t care of my 10’ fence idea. I’m still thinking he may crack.