Tag Archives: animals

Mantis

My totem, medicine and shield

nature politics

the mantis knows how I feel…

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Warrior minister of the forlorn hope !!

Here are some beers that this cat will drink and review for you. At this holy holy time of the year…

Photo by Hudley

Firestone Wookey Jack

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Mr. PO PO

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Sierra Nevada Flipside

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Warrior minister of the forlorn hope

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mock Pee

Today I watched my beautiful white Himalayan male cat mock pee on the outside brick fence. Male cats turn backwards and then spray their territory. The male cat does this by vibrating their tail.  Mr. Po Po is different because he is a very clean cat. I know he learned the pee ritual from Flash our other male cat. Flash does the real thing. He marks his territory all over the yard. This is what male cats do. Mr. Po Po is a very intelligent kitty.  I think he realizes that peeing around is a filthy thing to do, but he is  respectful of the social ritual and etiquette required of all male cats. It is an important ritual to uphold. So he mocks his territorial pissing. My son and I laugh about it all the time.

 

 

Buz

Cats are a part of my life. They always have been and always will be. This is a short story about Buzz the grey feral cat. He is surrounded with a cloud of mystery and synchronicity.  I do not know what became of him. I trust that my ex-husband took good care of him after I left.  Buz was last visited at my ex-husband’s house about 22 years ago.  As noted in the image above. At this time Buz did not accept me anymore and so I let him stay.  Cats are transitory little beings. Domesticated cats are 10 % wild and 80 % domesticated. Buzz was 80 % wild and 10 % domesticated.  He grew up to be a hide & seek cat. He was not social with humans. In the mid-1980s, he was my cat and came to me only. I am 70 % wild and only 30 % domesticated. Buss and I had a lot in common.  So the story goes…

Once upon a time there was a very intelligent cat name Sir Huckle Berry Finish Raoolish Maximus.  We called him Huckleberry or Huck for short. He was a gift from our photographer friend named O who hung out with the punk band M.I.A. Huck was a grey American short hair. We loved him.

One night we had a party at the house. I left to go get some more party supplies. Huck got out and followed me. On the way back I saw him lying in the street near my home.  It was a hit and run. We took him to our veterinarian. They did all they could do to save his life. He passed away. This was a very sad time for me.

I watched a series on Nick at Nite Nickelodeon called Route 66.  The original TV series was aired in the 1960s. The main characters Tod and Buzz traveled the land in their Corvette sports car. One day at the local thrift store after the death of Huck I found a vinyl LP called George Maharis Sings. On his album George sings Moon River. The song Moon River is the song that inspired me to name this cat Huckleberry. I did not know that George Macharis sang this song but he did play the character Buz on the series Route 66.  I felt captivated by Huck when I found the LP. I listened to the song over and over and cried. I missed my Huckleberry! I did not know it then but two cats and a song were about to make my life come together in a very interesting way.

“Two drifters, off to see the world

There’s such a lot of world to see

We’re after that same rainbow’s end, waitin’ ’round the bend

My huckleberry friend, Moon River, and me.”

The same day I found this LP I later took a walk and noticed across the street some kittens and their mama sunning their bodies. I thought this was cute. Then I noticed that it was right across the street from where Huckleberry was hit. With my eagle eyes I focused in on a little grey cat. This kitten looked just like Huck. I was amazed. All this coincidence hit me hard it had to mean something.

What could all this mean? The Record with Buz signing Moon River, the place where Huck died, and the little grey cat across the street, all came together through the process of synchronicity.  I then made a plan. The next two weeks I studied the mama cat and her kittens. I saw a pattern. They lived under an older house on the street. They only came out at certain times for a sun bath, sleep and play. The kittens always stayed very close to their mama.

I then made my move while the feral cats were sleeping out in the sun. I walked down the street, crossed and slowly approached the cats. I quickly grabbed the little grey kitten and made a run for it. That mama was on my tail for three blocks. She yelled like a wild animal. She clawed and bit my feet and ankles. Then she gave up. I do not blame her but her wild little grey kitten was mine now!!

It took some time but the grey kitten learned to love his new home. We took good care of him. The other cats became his family. I named him Buz or sometimes Buzweld when he was bad, which was not very often.

The Adventures of Sony and Raubie Part Two

Beer, Ginger Ale and Gristle

Holly and Sony photo by Steve Hudson

Trampling down the prairie rose leaving hoof tracks in the sand
Those who wish to follow me I welcome with my hands
I heard from passing renegades Geronimo was dead
He’d been laying down his weapons when they filled him full of lead

Indian Sunset, Mad Man Across The Water by Elton John

Leaning against the kitchen sink and munching and grinding gristle with our teeth was a treat after a long ride on the horses.  My mom left stew bones on the kitchen counter cooling off.  Refreshing our spirits by reaching in the freezer to pull out a cold mug of Coors Beer.  Ruff was about 14 at the time. She was about 4 foot 5 inches and had a small but sturdy frame. Mousey blond long hair fell widely around her. Her blue-green eyes and a large scare on her face fit her.  As a toddler the family German Shepard, who was half wolf, attacked her but that was not a problem for Ruff. She rode her grey roan Appaloosa like he was made just for her. Ruff would cuss you out if ya messed with her. She rode bareback and also had a western saddle, with a good ‘old rope circled around her horn in the front. She practiced barrel racing in a large field below her home. Raubie was slow moving horse but Ruff was good at getting him going-on a real smooth soft gallop around the barrels. The barrels were built up rocks and boxes.

On Saturdays we took long rides. Stopping in at a local store near Topanga Canyon, we bought Ginger Ale. Two large bottles. Some for us and some for the horses. They loved it. They also loved beer. My dad often gave Sony his bottle to drink down. We laughed. Sony would drink it down and make it look so good.  My mustang stood about 14 hands high and was a good size for me. Sony wildly ran up hills. Hanging on tight you could not stop his free run. I had a bareback pad and an English saddle, which caused a lot of quarreling between Ruff and I on what was the better ride She rode a western saddle.I was not a fancy English rider that rode around a little ring for tournaments. There was nothing like riding an English saddle on a jump. Ruff and I could do it with the best of them.

I made jumps for the horses out of bamboo shoots that grew near my parents house. A large field below made a great riding ring for jumping. Sony was an excellent jumper. It was a great feeling like riding on a swing, that butterfly feeling that you feel in your belly. Sony, with a powerful jerk, could fling me off him. He even stopped abruptly in front of the jump and begin to eat the bamboo. We trashed jumping after some time. Instead we would sneak into rings in the Santa Monica Mountains. We raced through a few great open farms. We were often chased away, but always went back later.

Hudley Flipside @COPYWRITE The Adventures of Sony and Raubie

Two Praying Mantis non-fiction short stories.The Gossamer White Praying Mantis and The Crystal Bowl:

Watercolor Praying Mantis Mandula by Hudley

Watercolor Praying Mantis Mandula by Hudley

Gossamer White Praying Mantis

A dream:  In this dream I came upon my cat Flash tying to jump up to capture and then eat a big beautiful white Praying Mantis. She was resting on some crawling rosemary in front of the house. I was focused when the Praying Mantis spoke to me,

“Do not be concerned with me and what the cat is doing!” I was concerned because I witnessed the eating of a few Praying Mantis the past summer. “I am a huntress too!” She whispered to me. “We both hunt for food and that is a wild part of our nature.”

I then realized the truth of what she said. She was not afraid of my cat nor was she afraid of death. “I know your cat. He has been hunting in this garden for many seasons, as my family has. Didn’t you see one of my babies eat a butterfly?”

I had to agree with her and I was not pleased with that.

Then a breeze blew on us and she spread her white gossamer wings and flew away. I awoke remembering this dream.

 

The Crystal Bowl

When we first moved into to our house I was amazed how the pesticides used created such an imbalance with the insects, birds, and animal in our garden.  It took me many years to reach a balance there that I have today. We once had an avalanche of crickets and black widows galore. Yet with time I befriended the Praying Mantis. This is a short story about my first encounter with a Praying Mantis. The Mantis has helped in the balance of our garden without pesticides.

One day while dusting the house, I dusted a big crystal bowl on the kitchen table. It was usually filled with fruit and vegetables. I looked outside the French widows and saw a big golden Praying Mantis resting on a white plastic chair.  She was gazing in the house at me.  Every day throughout the summer Praying Mantis would come to visit on the chair. I did not know the focus of this Mantis’s gaze. I thought maybe me. I soon found out what it was. A few weeks later I dusted the crystal bowl and reached behind it. I heard a loud screaming shriek. Looking with amazement I found a Praying Mantis there. I looked around and saw that the door was open from the back garden. She came into the house to be near the crystal bowl.  The light of the multifaceted crystal must have fascinated this Mantis.  This is only the beginning of my many experiences with the Praying Mantis from my garden.  I think our life together, on this planet, is about nature and the changing seasons.  She shows me the cycles of life, death and rebirth and affirms that I have nothing to fear!