Pye is unpredictable, as you all know: she pees in the box, she pees on the chair; she snuggles, she runs away from home; she licks me, she bites me. I know the peeing is purely behavioral: she gets mad if I start the RV, or leave her locked in when she doesn’t want to be. But I can’t figure out what triggers the rest of the sudden changes in behavior. At the moment, she’s on a cuddley streak, after being on a 3-day “I’m wild and don’t know you unless I’m hungry” streak.
The latter started shortly after I gave her flea medicine on the back of her neck.
She appears to have an allergic reaction to the flea drops at the treatment site; she scratches at the spot for a day or two. But after this latest application, I’ve began to suspect the allergic reaction goes deeper than just a bit of itching. This was the first time I noticed a change in her mental behavior for several days after the flea medicine was administered.
This sure would explain a lot about her unpredictable behavior. Unfortunately, there doesn’t seem to be much about this kind of side effect on the internet. Have any of you ever experienced a change in behavior with your dog or cat after administering flea drops?
The river I’m parked on rose to over 40 feet in some areas – 9 feet over flood stage. Many RVers in other parks were evacuated. We were lucky here, no one had to relocate. But a few of us, myself included, were given the suggestion to “pack up and be ready to move, just in case.”
Unlike my usual “panic like a lemming” mode, I didn’t sit inside waiting for the water to rise. Instead, I went out and took a bunch of flood pictures from the water’s edge. For you, my dear Kernutties, for you I braved Mother Nature’s destruction, risking life and limb, to get y’all some photos. You’re welcome.
Before you say, “Hey, wait a minute. Your photos usually stink”, you should know these came out pretty good. (I know, I’m shocked, too.)
I’m going to let all you City Slickers in on a little secret. Unlike the natural disasters I witnessed when I lived in a big city, I had free access to all areas of this one. No one stood guard. No areas were blocked off. In northern California the authorities would have had all areas cordoned off, guarded by officers with a nasty demeanor, at the ready to shoo you away like a pesky fly.
Yet another thing I like about small towns; they just don’t seem to panic. But maybe it’s just Texans.
As you will see in the better-than-usual photos, it was a lovely sunny day when the water rose. Believe it or not, it didn’t rain all that much here, but it did rain a lot upstream a couple days before. So much so, the dams up river had to let out water. This means flooding to areas like my little ol’ cow/chicken/oil town. The good news is we all get a day or two advance notice of the impending doom.
Without further ado… The Flood Photos
All I had to do in this small cow/chicken/oil town was shove some fellow looky-loos out of the way so I could get this shot. For you, dear Kernutties, for you.
A collector of many things, Mrs. Louisa Gordon’s collections of bells, bed pans, money and stones take up an entire wing of the museum.
According to a sign posted in the wing, she and her husband traveled extensively. Many of the items in her collections were acquired during their travels. Upon her death in 1941, she willed her collections to J. Marvin Hunter’s museum, now the Frontier Times Museum.
Ring My Bells
That same sign introducing Mrs. Gordon’s collections also says this is likely the largest collection of bells in the world. I wanted to ring one, but I didn’t want to get kicked out before I found that elusive two-headed rodent. I should’ve rung the bells. (If you don’t know about the elusive “two-headed rodent”, see the first post.)
This picture doesn’t capture the whole collection of bells.
Why is it when some people have an issue, rather than discuss it like a rational human being they decide to lash out? *sigh*
Or even worse, they assume something completely moronic and then lash out like they know everything? And why is it some people run the minute there is any conflict? How can you get to be that old and not have learned SOME communication skills??
But never mind this for now, I really don’t care. Instead I will try to live by this message from Joel Osteen (posted on Facebook, thanks to reader Greg V.):
“What would this world be like if instead of judging people we would start loving people? So they don’t look like you, they don’t dress like you, they don’t raise their children like you, they’re not supposed to. God made us all different. Maybe they’re not making good decisions right now. That’s okay, show them mercy. They’re still on their journey.”
Well, I just wish some people would hurry the heck up and get there. *big sigh*
I do have some funny stuff from around the web to amuse you, mostly brought to you by a couple of my readers. Yes, I’m phoning it in.
Here is a fun one: Toilets of the World Quiz(thanks to reader Fumiko G.). They show you a picture of a bathroom, and give you a choice of three cities. I got 6/10. If you play, come back and post your scores in the comments.
A small museum in a small town, The Frontier Times Museum in Bandera, Texas packs in a whole lot of the weird and wonderful I’ve not seen anywhere. What it lacks in size, it makes up for in density, and random oddities. The place is full up to the high ceiling with — stuff. Stuff like shrunken heads and dressed fleas.
Remember the days when I used to post Ten Things? Yeah, me neither.
For those of you who are new here, or those of you with a memory like mine, I have a treat for you. Allow me to present: Ten Things Tuesday on a day that may or may not be Tuesday.
This living in the country is new to me. As many of you know, I lived in a suburbian ecosystem for many years. That’s not to say I lived an overly sheltered life, but those are stories for another day, many of which have already been published on this blog. Ahem.
It’s merely that I’ve found life in the Texas country to be very different from life in the California suburbs. Not bad, just different. Since I’m coming from that perspective, this post will probably only be funny to those who’ve also spent too many years in a suburbian ecosystem.
Ten Thing you will only find in the country:
Only in the country…
will everyone call you “Ma’am” or “Sir”.
will a neighbor’s goats come to graze in your yard.
Have you had goats graze in *your* yard?
in the middle of town, will you see someone with a rifle shooting at critters. And it’s legal.
will you hear shots fired all day long and never see a cop.
In addition to the apparently many braless ladies in Bandera, there is a museum. Ah, but you know me so well! I wouldn’t tell you all about just any museum. No, no, I only tell you all about the weird, the wacky, and the wonderful! This museum is a combination of both weird and wacky. So much so, I will have to tell you about it in two, maybe three, posts.
It’s All In Your Shrunken Head
It would seem the Ingram-Bandera area has a thing for heads. Today I bring you a two-headed goat, and a couple shrunken heads, one of which is human. (If you’re squeamish you might want to read something else, like Cat-butt-tongue water or watch the bull castration video I made on a Texas ranch. On second thought, if you’re squeamish you probably stopped reading this blog a long time ago. Ok, never mind.)
I’d been in Bandera a couple times before I realized the sedately named Frontier Times Museum was a welcome journey into the weird and the wacky. Oh sure, they have some old frontiery stuff there, but really, do I care about that? Not so much.
Then someone told me about the “Two-headed Things Museum” in Bandera. ‘Two-headed things’?? My people!! Where is this? How could I have missed this? Ah, yes. I judged that book museum by its cover title.
First thing I asked when I walked in, “You have two-headed things here, right?” In my head, “Because I’m not staying if you don’t.”
The docent gave a slight smile as if she was thinking, “Oh, joy. Here’s another one. I wish we had a sign so I could stop answering this question sixteen times a day.”
Me, after she nodded, “Where are they?”
She kindly pointed to one two-headed thing, and then said there was another two-headed rodent – somewhere in the museum. She also pointed out some shrunken heads. Holy Shrunken Grapes, Batman!
It’s been a year since Pye appeared on my doorstep. A year of learning about relationships, for both of us. Yes, I’m referring to my cat as if she’s a person. If you’re new here, please see the tag line under the title of this blog for the explanation.
We’re going to skip what I’ve learned about relationships this past year or so; I’ll save that for another time. Let’s move on to Pye for now, shall we?
What we’ve all learned about Pye in the last year:
She’s a baby Alligator Snapping Turtle, and her soft shell is only about one inch long. This is an extreme closeup photo – she’s only about the size of a quarter. Despite her small start, the Alligator Snapping Turtle is the largest freshwater turtle in the world. Ranger Roscoe is fascinated by her tiny little tail. (you can see it in the above photo)
We’re keeping Myrtle in a tank until her shell hardens and she gets a little bigger – and looks less like a snack. Her little shell will grow to a couple feet across. She’ll also get a big, snapping beak, and may live as long as 120 years.