Winter of my discontent - or something like that

I love winter and I love snow. I love all the light and sparkle snow brings, as well as the insulation of the earth, the nitrogen, the pristine quality, the pastel shadows, the incredible sunsets and some sunrises. And this winter there has been a whole lot of snow! In fact, I've been snowbound for long stretches of time out here in the boonies.

I also love winter for its quiet, the inevitable reflective caste that accompanies short days and long nights. I find that sleep is deep and long in the winter. And I love having a real hearth with a real fire with real pets around it, warming their bones and gracing the carpet.

One such pet is a young, beautiful, all black kitten I named Muffy. I have enjoyed her so much, notwithstanding that she is now about 30 feet up in a tree outside - for the third time this winter! I try very hard to keep her strictly inside, but she gives me the slip when I go out to get some firewood from the porch and she's so fast that it's too late by the time I notice. To date she has had to be rescued each time, even spending one night in her perch while at least 6" of snow fell because I cannot climb trees any more and had to wait for help.

I do fine with winter until after Christmas. I am such an outdoors person that my ability to quietly read, sew, knit, amuse myself indoors begins to fail. Oh, I get out each day for at least a small walk (love winter walks!) and to bring up firewood from the woodshed. But I live in such isolation that I find myself getting tired of my own company, I suppose, and certainly in need of more stimulation - which is always the outdoor world for me and gardening specifically. So cabin fever sets in and by February I'm hanging on for dear life.

One bit of excitement this winter was the presence of a cougar. I did not see this cougar, though I might have. Early on a Sunday morning, just as dawn was shedding fuzzy light on a world still dark from lack of snow as well as light, my dogs demanded to go outside. This was particularly amazing coming from my Miniature Pincher, who always stayed in bed, under her afghan, till 11 or later. I could tell from their barking that something different was going on, so I slipped out to the end of the house in the direction of their barking in just my nightgown and slippers. Daisy, the mutt, was backing up as she barked, clearly frightened and alarmed. Kate was not in sight but she was absolutely fearlessly aggressive, so that was not a concern. Had I walked even five feet further, I might have seen the cougar that was in my orchard - and that killed Kate, who no doubt flew right into its face.

As light made vision possible, I dressed and went looking for Kate, who had not returned. I feared the worst. Daisy's very keen nose found a spot in the orchard that was fresh blood, and then another, and still another. We followed the blood trail up a steep slope to the top of the bench land and there I saw what I expected: the lifeless body of my Kate, about 40 feet or so into the field. She had been partially eaten. I gathered her up. She was still warm and limp. I carried down to the garden where I have set aside a special pet cemetery. Only later did it occur to me that I had probably chased the cougar off its kill and that I had no weapons with me for self-defense.

I called the government trapper in our area, who confirmed that it was indeed a cougar (the puncture wounds were huge!). We agreed that had Kate not been such an aggressive dog, she would not have been killed. Cougars really don't care for dog and there are abundant deer in my part of the country, which is what cougar prefer - not even bothering cattle if deer are available. As my land is along a ridge that connects two mountainous areas, this is a natural passage for cougars, who probably come down to the creek to drink at my place, where there is easy access. I have seen their prints in the past and actually heard one growling at the large dogs I had at that time - who promptly landed on the porch, begging to come in. They are creatures of the night, so dusk and dawn would be the most likely time for an encounter, if one were to occur, and they definitely do not want to encounter people.

Not a good winter for pets hereabouts. Not terribly good for me either. Weather prevented Christmas travel, so there was no Christmas this year, which was a huge disappointment. No New Year's Eve highlight either. I took down the decorations the day after Christmas, crying because of disappointment and because no one had even seen them - or the gifts I had sewn with so much excitement and joy. This too shall pass, but it was something of a blow nonetheless.

Today blue skies prevail, which is always very uplifting in any case, but even more so when there is snow to reflect all that light. I try to go for a drive on each such day, providing I can get out of my steep lane - even with 4WD. Daisy goes with me - something she never did when Kate was here. And so we pass through another winter, but not without much thought and dreaming of spring's weather and garden.