It is that time of year again. Mathilda is pregnant – and hungry.
So she takes the trek across the frozen Beaver dam and along the well established wildlife path through bushes and dead falls up the slope and over, to our house.
At dusk she digs in the packed snow beneath the Bird feeders for the old lost sunflower seed – and for the Voles, that dare to come up once it is dark. It must be worth her while, because she is there for hours. I leave a light on, next to the living room window and then I can watch her. At first, when she hears me moving in the house, she runs away, back down the path, but soon she gets used to the sounds of movement in the house. She also can hear my voice. Once she gets used to that, I can go out onto the deck, call her – and toss her a turkey sausage.
She soon gets the hang of that!
I should “hate “ her, but I do not.
See, she is a Fisher. Many Canadians hate fishers and blame them for killing their Cats and small Dogs. Fishers also kill and eat Raccoons.
Our Raccoons, the kids from Cassey and her sisters, that, come spring, we treat to a morsel of Cat food…… ( see: https://shamanicdrumm.wordpress.com/2014/04/18/cassey-writes-to-lynn-and-john/
Yes, Fishers are considered a vermin, but in the end, they are a part of Nature and the food chain.
So, no, I do not “hate” Mathilda at al l- or any other Being for that matter…..
To the contrary, when I bring our garbage and recycling to the dump containers this Sunday, I pick up a nice Chicken for her.
Yes, the weekend cottagers here are extremely wasteful.
-Imagine that Chicken. Its life in a confined mass farming place, never being outside to scratch in the Earth, its death, the processing, and then – been tossed in the garbage 3 days after being bought – Yes, the receipt was still in the paper bag….
Well, some of the cottagers are considerate enough to put such morsels behind the garbage bins – for the Foxes and Coyotes. There is still LOTS of things there….. So this chicken can be missed.
I put it beneath the Bird feeder.
Then I cook my own Chicken – that one from our grocer in town…. (just in case you asked…)
Around 8.30 pm, when I remember to check, the Chicken is gone.
There are fresh Fisher tracks in the snow.
To find our more about Mathilda and her kind: