Baby Crane

If you look to the left, I hope you see the picture of the new baby sandhill crane. Sandy and Saundra, the mom and dad, have been coming here every year and every day during the spring and summer. Last year they hatched a new baby and it grew before our eyes. This year when they returned, it was just Sandy and Saundra. After a while, Sandy came alone.

Saundra was busy hatching this baby. They bring this baby twice a day to the feeders. It is a good quarter of a mile walk. In their honor I post the story of Sandy and Saundra Crane.


Behind Pogo’s new house, behind the fence and a little way beyond, was a big vacant field that turned into a smooth, beautiful, shallow lake after a big rain. There were no trees, but there were a lot of tall weeds and plenty of water to wade in. There were also places of higher, drier, ground to make a nice, dry nest. It was the perfect place. Sandy and Sandra Crane had looked for just such a place, high and low, and over many, many miles, so that they might make a nest and raise a family.

When Sandy saw it, he said to Sandra, “Look down there! That looks perfect, don’t you think?!”

Sandra thought that if Sandy thought so, it must be the best place in the world. She loved him very much. “I do believe you are right!” she said. “Lets go down and have a look around!”

They circled twice, and landed ever so gently, right in the middle of the field. They walked around the whole field. It looked like a good place to raise the family. The water was good, and the food seemed to be everywhere, and there was enough space to see anyone coming. There were a lot of other birds around, which was always a good sign. They would stay the night and see what the other birds had to say in the morning. Meanwhile, there was dinner to eat and some sleep to be slept.



First, to find some dinner.



Sandra Crane overheard the Jays telling about the Birds Restaurant. Her heart began to long to see this special place. She had never seen a bird restaurant in her life. Always, she and Sandy had scavenged for dinner, as all their Sandhill Crane relatives had before them. It sounded too good to be true. But, when the Robins and the Cardinals began describing what wonderful foods were on the menu, she knew that she and Sandy had to go that very night.

“We all get dressed up,” said Varla Cardinal, “and wash our beaks and feet and preen every feather.”

“Oh, yes!” interrupted one of the Robins, “ It is different every night! Sometimes, a Parakeet sings to us while we dine, and sometimes the Cat does special tricks! But our favorite, is when the little dog comes out and plays “chase” with us. It is all very, very, exciting!”

Sandy said, “DOG!… CHASE?” This sounded very familiar. He and Sandra looked at each other… could it be?—they knew a little dog that loved the game of Chase… but he was far away in the country.

That evening, Sandy and Sandra preened every feather and washed their beaks and feet. They looked very nice, indeed. They met with the Jays and the Robins and Cardinals just outside the fence. The Cardinals were as red as red could be, and the Jays were as blue and grey as Jays of the best quality could have been. But the Robins were the best dressed there. How magnificent they were in their red chest feathers and the subdued hues of their wings! Every beak and foot gleamed in the evening sun! Every bird flew at once to the top of the fence. What a sight it was!

Some Yellow Warblers were already at the restaurant, but they were just finishing the final course. “Great meal! Good night! Eat until your heart’s delight!” they sang as they flew off.

All the birds remained on the fence, until one old grey squirrel came and announced, “The Robin Party Will Now Be Served!”

The Robins silently flew to their table and were served dishes of white grubs and a special desert of dried cherries. They all agreed that it was a delicious dinner, and each of their red breasts were expanded to a very round state before they gave the old squirrel the rest of the cherries and flew off to rest for the night. Some had to walk all the way home, they were that full of cherries.

The Jays were called next. Holly berries, sunflower seeds, millet, grass seeds… what a smorgasbord! Such a chatter at dinner! Everyone had some news to tell and they were not satisfied until they told it! Of course, the ladies were all comparing each other’s feathers and talking about their children and grandchildren… such a good time they had! No bird can say as much as a Jay can in such a short time!

It was getting late, and when the Cardinals were called to dinner, they insisted that the Cranes join them. They were dinning on nuts and sunflower seeds, dried grapes and corn, when a little black dog came running out, barking at the top of his voice! Sandra was taken aback! “Could it be who I think it is?” she said, with her mouth full of corn.

Sandy said, “It certainly looks like him! But I don’t think it is really him!”

When Pogo came running out of the house, the Cardinals all flew back to the fence. Sandy and Sandra stood still, and said, “Wooffer? Is that really you?”

Pogo stopped in his tracks! “Do you know my brother, Wooffer?” he asked in disbelief.

Sandy laughed. “You look so much like him, we thought you were Wooffer. He has told us all about you. You are the one who digs big, long tunnels! We are the Cranes, and it is very, very nice to meet Wooffer’s brother.” With that, Sandy stuck out his big long leg and grabbed Pogo by the paw and shook it up and down. Pogo began to smile, and shake the long skinny leg of Sandy the Crane.

It was not the last conversation that Pogo had with the Cranes. Every day they met in the yard and talked of this and that and where the best place to raise a Crane family might be. They became very good friends and Pogo became good friends with all the birds that came to the Bird Restaurant. They learned to speak each others language and talked many long hours of things that were important to all the birds… and things that were important to Pogo. Pogo learned that birds know many things of far and wide and high and low, and the birds learned that not all dogs and cats are enemies and may be a big help in times of trouble. They knew Wooffer was one of a kind, but they found out that Pogo was one of a kind, too. No better friends could they have than Wooffer and Pogo.

Sandy and Sandra went back to Lester’s Field to raise their family. Pogo had said it was a safer place. But every year they go visit Pogo and eat at the Birds Restaurant. It is quite a nice place to eat.



Love,

Betty

I love the tale, Betty. And the baby Crane is sweet. Does he/she have a name yet?

Once again, Bravo!

Incredible imagination!

Ann

No one can tell stories like you do, Betty. The picture is great, too.

I put this story on here on this day because everyone seems so angry and intense. For a person like me who lives with a dedicated Marine who never forgets anthing about war, the arguments and anger are not about this day. Everyone fought for peace and survival, be it between countries or different peoples.

Our Wooffer is going on 17. He has not been well this weekend. Puked and pooped and wandered off toward the woods. We thought to die. David grabbed him up and brought him back. No vets today.

Pepto Bismol shoved between clenched teeth. Bute dissolved in water and gotten down.
Finally, he quit the puking and pooping blood. I held him while he snored.

This night he feels a bit better. He had some water and three niblets of dog food.

We think he will make it this night.

Love,
Betty

Betty, thank you for your calm thoughts, and know there will be many prayers for wooffer tonight.

Thank you, Zada. I know your kind heart. Wooffer is sleeping. That is a good thing. It is a mystery. Two days ago, Jazzmin was sick to the bones. She is younger.
My dogs go out and about this property, roll in god-awfull
stuff, eat poop from every animal that traversed this land from raccoon, rabbit to deer, drink from the green ditchwater in the ditch, smile their way through the rotten vegetation, try a little taste of all the grasses, lick the possum poop off the porch, roll in the crow poop, eat the neighbors cat poop, smile all the way through all of that and then get sick to death in the middle of the night.

Poor, poor Wooffer. He feel so hung over. I hope he is ok tomorrow.

Love,
Betty

Eating other animals' pooh is the nature of the dog. Perhaps it is their version of receiving 'mail'. Rolling in it is how they disguise their scent from predators and prey. Must be in their genetic makeup from when they were wild. Perhaps he got some pooh from an animal that was ailing. It's after 9pm here and I am hoping you and he are both sleeping well.

Any updates, Betty?

Dear Zada,
Wooffer is now a lot better. Now my Sara has the runs. God only knows what they all got into. I am giving the antibiotics, the pepto bismol, and the pain pills for the cramping. They go out and about, and so many animals come here and do their business. I think we will be ok.

Love,
Betty

Thanks for the update, Betty. I have been thinking of yuo and Wooffer. I'll be sending good thoughts for Sara now!

Dear Zada,
This is my Sara. Named for Sara Brightman. She loves David, Tractors, big machinery. She is frightened by thunder and gun shots. A small dynamo she is. She would untie your shoe laces and trip you in a heart beat. My Sara is fearless.

Love,
Betty

I am hoping she is perkier today, Betty. I also hope Wooffer is his usual fine self.