I can get rid of those bugs for you, lady

That’s what the pest control man who knocked on my door the other day said to me. He pointed to the wasp nest in the roof over my front porch.

“I see you have a lot of spiders – I can kill those, too,” he said.

I smiled at him. Many years ago a wasp had built her nest above my front door. I asked her if we could make a deal – she and the kids could stay as long as they wanted to, as long as I was free to come and go in peace.

A silent agreement took place, and for the next several months I watched Mama and her babies. The kids eventually left the nest, but Mama stayed. She was there in October when I got up on a ladder and decorated the front porch with Halloween spider webs. She stood at the end of her nest and watched me.

She was there on Thanksgiving. I remember feeling very grateful for her presence in my life on that special day. And she was still there in early December. Was it possible she’d remain through Christmas?

It was not to be - Mama left before the holidays. I was truly sorry she had moved on – I wanted to wish her a Merry Christmas.

For years I’ve waited for another wasp to build her nest on my front porch, and this was the year. I was actually excited! Every time I water the plants on the porch I say hi to Mama, and tell her how fine those babies are looking. I don’t know how long she’ll hang around, but she’s welcome to stay as long as she wants.

“No thanks,” I told the pest control person, and I closed the door.

Chris
Lighthearted Press

Mending Fences

Every so often a repair project comes up at my home that seems so overwhelming I find myself pushing it to the back burner.

That was the case with my 18 year-old fence – 300 feet of 5 ft. high fence that was on the verge of falling down my steep hillside.

Over the years there were many “plugs” added to keep animals in…or out…of my yard. Boards were nailed to the bottom and rocks were used to block up holes.

In many places openings were dug UNDER the fence to allow the feral cats into my yard so they could get to their food.

There were many special memories attached to this fence. I was reluctant to let it go, but in my heart I knew it was time to say goodbye. I found the right people, and this past week my decayed, moss-covered, chewed-up fence came down and a brand new one went up.

It’s beautiful – a perfect backdrop for all the trees in my yard. As the boards were being attached I went around the perimeter with the crew, digging holes and moving rocks so the critters who need access can get in.

I’m happy to say that all the creatures who come and go seem to have adjusted.

And so have I.

Here’s to mending fences!

Chris

http://www.lightheartedpress.com/

Life is so precious

One of my daily treats is watching the ground squirrels run along the rock wall behind my cat enclosure. The squirrels build their homes inside the wall, digging out the dirt and carrying leaves and twigs into the runs.

I’m privileged to watch these playful creatures every year. The other day I was enjoying the youngsters running wildly when one of them fell backwards off the wall. I ran outside and saw the little one on the ground, trying to stand, desperate and terrified. Its head was hanging to the side.

I gathered the squirrel into my cat carrier and raced to my vet’s office. I put the carrier in the front seat next to me, singing the only lullaby I knew – in German. They’re not supposed to take in rodents, but the vets knew the right thing to do was to put this little creature out of its misery, which they did.

It broke my heart, because this baby squirrel was just playing. It wasn’t taken by a cat or a hawk – it was only playing.

Life is so precious.

Special note to my angel dog, Jake - no chasing the squirrel!

Chris

Meet SimbaKitty

Marie Mosely Plummer, of Wasilla Alaska, knows all about Forever Cats. For the last 16 years she has shared her life with one…SimbaKitty…who was actually born on the same day she landed in Alaska for the first time.

Talk about something that was meant to be!

Marie told me that SimbaKitty is coming to the end of his journey with her. Anyone who has ever loved a critter understands how heartbreaking this is. Our animal companions can often live for a very long time, but it’s never long enough.

My kitties and I are sending lots of purrs and hugs to Marie and SimbaKitty. My beloved angel dog, Jake, loved cats – it was he who found the litter of kittens under my deck, brought them in, and raised them as his own. It is those four 11-year old cats with whom I share my life.

I like to think that Jake takes a special interest in all the new heavenly kitty arrivals.

So one day, when SimbaKitty finds himself heading up to those starry skies, perhaps Jake will be there to greet him and welcome him home.

I hope so.

Chris

That's one small step for man...and woman

Has it really been 40 years?

I can remember Apollo 11 landing on the moon as if were just yesterday. I was allowed to stay up late to see this historic event, following along on the Moon Map in my Field Guide to the Stars and Planets. I even used a pin to mark the approximate spot where they landed, just in case they forgot and later needed that information.

My obsession with “all things space-related” began when I was a little girl. All the books I’ve written for animal lovers are filled to the brim with brilliant stars.

Walk into my home and there isn’t a room that doesn’t have a star on the wall, or hanging from the ceiling, or attached to a mirror.

I have always felt more comfortable “out there” than “down here.” In my dreams I fly through the stars, sometimes on the back of a beautiful whale, sometimes just floating along on the heavenly currents. Being in the stars is always like being home for me.

Many things have changed in four decades. However, one thing that will never…ever…change is my fascination with the heavens, if for no other reason than all my furry kids are waiting for me up there in those starry skies!

Chris

Six cats, one angel dog and a plaid golf bag

According to the dictionary, a family consists of people who are probably, but not necessarily, related.

I think of a family as a cohesive unit of living things that balance each other well and provide a comfortable and safe place to be...even amid the occasional hissy fit.

In my home, my family consists of me and four felines – Dickens and his three sisters Pippen, Molly and Star. I would do anything for these precious kitties. If any of them were missing it would leave a huge hole in my heart. Each brings me their own brand of kitty magic, along with the occasional hairball…and mole.

Then there are the two outside kitties. Sammy showed up six summers ago, a product of that year’s kitten season. He has been coming ever since.

Creamsicle is a fairly new arrival. He actually lives down the road, but shows up regularly for (as the Hobbits would say) “second breakfast,” and some badly needed affection.

One of the things families should do is watch out for each other. I never realized how much that meant to me until I lost my dog, Jake. OK, being part German Shepherd Dog and part Border Collie did give him some very strong protective instincts. The thing is, though, I loved it…and I really miss it.

Over the years Jake and I took thousands of walks through the woods by my home. The trail opens onto a golf course. Jake always took point, ready to tell me if something seemed off.

One day, in his later years, we came onto the golf course and Jake suddenly stopped. All of the fur on his back stood up and a low growl came out of his mouth. He kept his eyes on the object of his concern, and then carefully nudged me back to the path.

For as long as I live I will never forget how bravely my knight in shining armor protected me from that dangerous, plaid golf bag!

I am additionally blessed beyond words by all the wonderful, loving people who are also in my “family.” It’s odd that some of the ones I feel closest to I rarely see…and some I have never actually met. That’s ok – the heart has a way of maintaining a love connection through time and space. Face-to-face meetings, while lovely, are optional.

Some people are surrounded by friends and relatives, yet they feel very alone. As I look around my home on this rainy summer day, and look at my furry friends curled up in their favorite places, I feel very fortunate to be safely tucked in the arms…ah, paws…of my loving family.

Chris

Keep it Simple

This morning I was watching my 4 cats playing outside in their kitty enclosure. The weather has been picture-postcard perfect here in Oregon, so two of the felines were sunning themselves on the upper decks while the other two were stalking bugs and bark chips on the ground. They were blissfully content.

I wondered how often I touch the level of joy my kitties seem to live in almost all the time. Lately, it seems that joy has been eluding me. I know these are tough times. Many people are living in fear, dealing with heartbreaking loss, wondering what the future holds for them.

I looked back at those happy kitties of mine, and realized that even though I provide an insulating layer between them and the outside world, if that layer wasn’t there I suspect they could create joy so much more easily than I could.

Why is this?

Certainly the boundaries of their world are much smaller than those of mine, and they have many fewer options than I do. But rather than feeling that something is lacking, I think my cats revel in the simplicity of their lives. They make the most of everything they have, and when they’ve had enough food, or sun, or playtime they simply trot to their favorite spots and curl up for a nap.

In many ways this seems like a prescription for a perfect life. I remember once reading that happiness isn't wanting more things, but rather learning to want the things you already have.

My cats embody this belief. And although I am currently “dog-less in Portland,” I think all the beloved canines who’ve shared my life also understood those three most important words:

Keep it simple.

What wonderful teachers my critters are.

Time for a nap.

Chris

http://www.lightheartedpress.com

Here's to love!

Musicals – they’re my life! I don’t need to be wined and dined by a man – I just want him to kneel down and sing “If Ever I Would Leave You,” from Camelot!

So it is no surprise that yesterday, as I waited for the cable repair person to come and check the problems with my system, I was delighted to find that the musical Gigi was about to begin. I happily plunged into the delightful turn-of-the 20th century Parisian love story.

I cried and sang my way through the movie, right up until the last 20 minutes or so when the doorbell rang and the cable repairman had to temporarily turn off my cable box.

Thankfully, the diagnostics didn’t take long, and the cable guy and I were able to watch those last few moments of the movie that can turn any romantic into a blubbering idiot. (Note to self: next time wait until repairman leaves to watch ending of romantic movie.)

Suddenly, I wanted to know if Louis Jourdan, the male lead, was still with us. After all, Gigi came out in 1958! I ran to the computer and was overjoyed to learn that Mr. Jourdan is living in the south of France with his wife of 65 years. 65 years!!

Today would have been my 20th wedding anniversary. Perhaps that is why this love story hit me so hard.

On the other hand, I cry buckets and buckets of tears whenever I watch The Iron Giant, which may just be my favorite animated movie of all time. The giant sacrifices himself to save a small town…and the little boy in the town he has come to love.

In the last scene of the movie we see him magically “calling back” his various mechanical parts that have been blown to smithereens all over the earth. I watch those nuts and bolts bravely marching back “home” and I fall to pieces.

It is a different kind of love story…but a love story nevertheless.

So, here’s to love...in all it's wondrous forms!

Chris
http://www.lightheartedpress.com/
http://www.facebook.com/christine.davis

O'Malley & the new toy

One of the great joys of sharing your life with critters is providing them with a never-ending supply of things to play with.

Whether you purchase them from stores, or make them yourself, there is a special thrill that comes when presenting your new gift to your animal companion.

However, you never know what will happen.

Meet O'Malley.

This special Bulldog is the beloved companion of my friend Ruth Phillips, who lives in Georgia.

O’Malley recently received a new toy. I’m not sure exactly what happened, but I think you can tell from his expression how he feels about the new plaything.

Hang in there, O’Malley!

Love,
Your Auntie Chris

In Celebration of Marley

When Ed Miller sent me some pictures of his dog, Marley, I asked if I could share this one photo that he called Laughing Malamute. It gave me such a joyful feeling - just look at that beautiful face!

“She was laughing at a joke I told her about two Dalmatians who get lost on a dark road,” he said.

Ed had to say goodbye to his beloved girl last week, but as he talked about her it was clear how deep the bond between them was. He said Marley used to select toys from her box of stuffed animals, and then return them when she was done playing.

Ed signed his email “Ed Miller, aka Marley Malamute’s Dad.” He certainly was.

I know Marley will always watch over you, Ed, as she flies through the starry skies.

Chris

And the winner is...

Thank you to everyone who submitted a caption to go with this pointy-fingered ballet picture from my younger days. I wondered what I might have been pointing at, and now I have some terrific suggestions!

In the end, one of the captions really made me laugh and another just made me feel good, so I decided there would be a tie. The winners are:

“Go this way, the best is yet to be” (from Vicki McCarroll , Louisiana)

“Exhibiting at an early age her passion for dogs, ballerina Chris Davis does her imitation of a pointer” (from Linda Smith, Missouri)

Linda and Vicki will each receive an autographed book of their choice from Lighthearted Press and a Rainbow Bridge Wristband.

I’d love to do this again – I’ve got some dog and cat pictures that are just begging for captions!

Cheers,
Chris
Follow me on Facebook

Oi - what a day I had!

So I’m driving East on I-84 in Portland and get off at the 33rd Avenue exit. At the top of the ramp there’s a little ground squirrel running around, with cars swerving to try and avoid hitting it. I stopped my car, grabbed my jacket and ran over to the squirrel, with the intention of nabbing it.

It was a great plan…but the squirrel had other ideas. It ran under my car and up into the engine. I’d like to tell you I was completely composed, but the truth is I totally lost it. Traffic is backing up onto the freeway, and I’m standing there shaking. A car stopped and a really nice man got out to figure out what was wrong with this crazy person.

After reading my owner’s manual we figured out how to open the hood. And yes, there inside the engine was the squirrel…who immediately ran down into the bowels of the car.

Oh great.

I’m just one step away from being completely hysterical. I start grabbing things from my car. It turns out the eco-friendly grocery bag and the storage thing from the back of the car are useless when trying to dislodge a rodent from an engine. It’s amazing I didn’t pull out my sunglasses and some CDs.

After 20 minutes I had to do something. People in the cars passing by were NOT happy with me. I very gently started the car and drove a few blocks. I kept waiting to hear the sound of an animal screaming, but I heard nothing. I pulled over and got out of the car and waited. I didn’t even know if it was still in there. Nothing happened.

I had to get home so I started driving through the side streets, all the while sobbing, shaking and praying. I was terrified. That’s when the squirrel started to chirp from somewhere inside the car.

To make…as they say…a long story short, I drove home, grabbed my cat carrier, and then drove to Firestone and asked the mechanic if he would look under my car for a squirrel. I wish I had a picture of that man’s face – he must have thought he was on Candid Camera.

He found nothing.

As I type this the car is parked outside. I’m giving the squirrel one last chance to vacate, just in case it’s still in there. The mechanic thinks the squirrel probably bailed when it got too hot in the engine.

Are you ready for the punchline of this story? When I stopped to “save the squirrel” I had just come from a presentation on Living Fearlessly. I had gone from feeling like I could take on a dragon to being reduced to a blubbering child within 5 minutes.

I suspect there’s a lesson in there somewhere…

Chris

Name this Picture Contest

I stumbled on some old pictures of myself, back in the days when my only after school activities were piano lessons and ballet class. In every ballet photo I seemed to be pointing at something with my right hand.

The logical explanation is that I just wasn’t a very good ballerina. But now, after all these years, I'm wondering if I was really trying to send a message, maybe to a future Chris, or to someone else who might see this photograph and know exactly what I was trying to tell them.

So, I’ve decided to hold a Name this Picture contest. Whoever comes up with the best photo caption which explains why I’m pointing that finger or what I’m pointing at will win one of my books for animal lovers and a Rainbow Bridge Wristband. The prize can go to you, a friend, your veterinarian, or it can be donated to an animal organization. You choose the book and I’ll autograph it and send it and the wristband on its way.

I’ll be the judge of this contest, although if there are any ballerinas out there who want to consult let me know. You can post your responses here as a comment, post them on my Facebook page or email them to me at davis@lightheartedpress.com.

All entries must be submitted by 6/10/09.

Have fun,
Chris

What the vultures taught me

It was certainly unexpected, seeing the vultures sitting on my neighbor’s front deck.

The home is vacant, so the vultures were a welcome sign of life. When I remembered why vultures show up I knew it wouldn’t be life, but rather death, that was occurring next door. And, indeed, there was a dead deer under the deck.

I’ve never seen a vulture before, but I’ve been watching the deer for all the years I’ve lived in this little patch of woods, just a mile from the mall! It saddened me to see that one had died. The vultures just perched there looking at the deer, and were still looking at it the next morning. They hadn’t touched it. They weren’t eager or excited. There was almost a sense of reverence about the scene I was observing. Then one of the vultures spread its enormous wings and flew right over my head – it was breathtaking!

Ultimately the deer was removed, and the vultures flew off in search of other places that might offer them some sustenance. They left behind one feather, which I was honored to find.

Prior to this experience I would have thought of a vulture as a dark force, swooping in after an untimely death to pick away at the bones. But as I held that feather I remembered that animals often present themselves to us when we need their wisdom and guidance, and I realized that the vultures…and perhaps even the deer…had come to me for a reason.

I knew there was an area of my life that was, indeed, dead, but I had refused to accept it. It was festering away inside of me, taking a terrible toll on my health and causing me enormous pain and suffering.

Suddenly I knew it was time to acknowledge this death in my life. I needed to open the door to my heart and invite the vultures in. I wanted them to find whatever nourishment they could, for I finally understood that none remained there for me.

I've read that these magnificent birds keep the planet clean and in balance. Balance is certainly something that has eluded me lately.

Yes, the vultures had much to tell me…and I listened.

Chris

http://www.lightheartedpress.com/

Follow me on Facebook

Memorial Day

I must have been about 14 years old.

My older brother, Bob, was in Vietnam, and we were counting the days until he’d be home again. I adored my brother, and I missed him terribly. Yup, that's me over there on the right, sitting on Bob's lap. Of course, back then he was Bobby and I was Chrissy...yikes!

His homecoming was still about 8 months away. I decided to write a song for Bob. It was called 240 Days - yes, I know, not very creative. I stuck a tape player on my piano and recorded myself singing this masterpiece. The only words I can remember are:

In two-forty days I’m going to change my ways
Just two hundred forty days

Be kind – I was just a kid.

I sent the tape to my brother. Although he said he liked it, I think he was grateful I didn’t do any follow up versions. I mean, can you imagine “In eighty-one days I’m going to come through the haze”…well, you get the picture.

My brother DID come home, but he was a changed man. The boy who had played endless games of Chutes & Ladders with me, who had told me that horrific haircut I had gotten looked great, who had stood up for me as a kid – he was gone. One can never understand the journey a soldier takes unless one has walked those same steps. But, thankfully, Bob HAD come home.

Today I'm thinking of all the men and women who have given their lives on behalf of our country. To all the family mambers and friends whose hearts are hurting...especially the little sisters whose older brothers never came home...you are in my prayers this Memorial Day.

With gratitude,

Chris

Mother Nature works her magic

It seems like just yesterday I took this picture! It was last December, Portland was buried in two feet of snow, and this lovely birch tree up on my hill was bent over from the weight of all that white stuff! A thrush was perched on the icy branches, looking for food and water in our winter wonderland.

Fast forward 5 months. Spring has arrived, and the warmer weather has finally found us here in Oregon.

This is the same birch tree, all dressed up in her best spring greenery. The winter thrush stayed around until late April but has since left us for its summer home- perhaps some beach-front property?

It's interesting to note that the birch and I had a lot in common this past year. I was struggling with a painful knee problem, and walking was rather difficult all winter. I believe I looked a bit like that bent birch - without the thrush!

Physical therapy worked wonders on my knees, so when the warmer temperatures arrived I was able to stand up straight and strong.

Note to the universe:

I am most happy to be a perch for a passing bird, but could we make it a smaller one - still working on those knees!

Cheers,
Chris

Follow me on Facebook

Potato the Pig & Henry the Duck

Friends should always stick together.

That’s what the Humane Society believes about Potato the Pig & Henry the Duck, two survivors from a sad animal neglect case here in Oregon. These two critters, along with another pig, were apparently raised together, so the hope is the three friends will be able to stay together in one new home.

I've always been fascinated by pigs...if I could offer a good home to two pigs and a duck I'd be heading over to the shelter now!

Visit the Oregon Humane Society for more information about this special group of closely bonded friends.

Cheers,
Chris
Follow me on Facebook

Watch those car window openers

It's a miracle that this story has a happy ending.

Last winter I fell in love with a fabulous dog who was up for adoption in another state. I was overjoyed when I learned he’d found his forever family. A few weeks ago he was in the car with his mom. They were doing about 65 mph on a highway when the dog accidentally pressed his paw on the window opener, rolled down the window and jumped out of the car!

Mom said it was surreal, watching her dog roll over and over and over. She made an immediate U-turn, and although people had stopped to help her the dog miraculously got up and jumped into the car on his own.

He is fine, and the window opener is now locked, but I shudder to think how badly this might have ended.

About 5 years ago I was cruising along in my new Jeep with my dear dog, Jake, hanging out in the back seat as usual. This was the only place he would ride – no amount of pleading would get him to sit in the front with me.

Suddenly I heard him yelping, and saw he had managed to close the window on his snout as it was sticking out in the breeze!

I quickly got him unstuck and made sure he could never hurt himself again, but now I’m wondering if other people have had problems with dogs working the window openers and getting into trouble.

With the warmer weather finally here I guess we should all check those openers and child locks and make sure everything is safe before our critters hop into the car and head out into the sunset with us!

Chris

Jessie - a very special mom

Those of you who've read my books have probably heard me talk about Martha, the magical doggie who was born in my bathroom 27 years ago.

But it really started with her mom, Jessie, who I found running around on the train tracks in late May of 1982. She was skinny, covered in fleas, had lost much of her hair…and she was pregnant.

Jessie came home and joined my family of two other dogs. On June 28th she gave birth to 6 puppies in the bathroom of my old 1908 home. She did her best to care for her babies, but let’s face it – her heart really wasn’t in it. She was born for adventure, and with so many things to discover in the world being a stay-at-home mom wasn’t her thing.

I found homes for all the pups – including Martha. It is a long and scary story, but suffice it to say that Martha and her mom found their true home – with me and the other doggies.

Jessie and Martha have both been gone for many years now, but I will never forget the miracles they worked in my life. It was the unexpected loss of Martha in 1995 that resulted in my writing For Every Dog An Angel, a book that is now shared with animal lovers all over the world who have lost a beloved dog.

You were the best, Jessie. You gave me so many priceless gifts, the best one being Martha. While you two are flying around up there in the stars would you please do me a favor? Since today is Mother's Day, could you go find Jake, Penny and Gypsy and then head on over to my Mom – and tell her how much I love her.

To mothers everywhere - whether your babies are two-legged or four-legged - Happy Mother's Day!

Chris

When neighborhood critters are on their own

If you care about animals, the chances are good you’ve found yourself in this situation. You see a neighborhood dog who lives its life on the end of a chain in the yard – all day, every day. Food and water are scarce. There may be a minimal shelter...or none at all.

Or perhaps you are being visited by a neighbor’s kitty who is skin and bones, or has an infected wound or clearly looks ill. The neighbor isn’t friendly, so you decide to feed the cat...if you can. The cat begins to show up regularly, and then suddenly stops coming. You keep looking out the window, hoping to see it waiting on your deck. Is it hurt? Is it ok?

It’s so hard to keep our emotions in check when something like this happens. I have lost my temper many times when confronted with a situation where an animal is being abused or neglected.

Depending upon where you live, the chained dog situation may be illegal. A fabulous group called Dogs Deserve Better is working hard to educate people and change laws so that one day all dogs will be off chains and inside with their families, where they belong.

Even if it’s legal to keep the dog on a chain people are required to provide food, clean water and adequate shelter for their outside animals.

As for the hungry cat, it’s always best if you can talk with the family. I have a dear friend in another state who has been feeding two neighborhood cats. The cats live near her home, and it's clear their family wants nothing to do with them. However, they don’t seem to want anyone to interfere, either. First one cat disappeared, then the other. My friend is heartbroken, not knowing what has happened to them.

I’ve been feeding my little black feral cat, Sammy, for almost 6 years. I know he doesn’t have a home. What he DOES have is a very strong constitution – my neighbor said her vet calls it “hybrid vigor.”

When a small, skinny orange cat began visiting I went into feeding mode. This little guy was very friendly, and I felt sure he had a home. It took awhile but I finally found his family, and because I knew these people I stopped by to talk with them.

The cat's name is Creamsicle – how cute! Unlike so many situations, these people really care about their kitty. He had just been to the vet and was thoroughly checked out. Now he has two households watching over him!

If a neighborhood critter needs your help I hope you can talk with the family and see where they stand on the matter. Hopefully, they will want to do what it takes to care for their furball. If not, do what you can within the law, and consult with the authorities if outside intervention is needed.

There will probably be a few sleepless nights in your future - and a lot of trips to the window - but at least you'll know you did all you could to help another living creature in need.

Hugs to all you earth angels,

Chris