Okay, let's take a census here.

One dog. Check.

Three cats. Check.

One gecko. Check.

Three goldfish. Check.

One Siamese Fighting fish. Check.

Eight tropical fish. Check.

One Double-Crested Cormorant. Check.

Cormorant?

Yup. Cormorant.

While doing the dishes, I spotted a large dark shape outside off our driveway. It sure wasn't the hummingbird that caught my attention a few days ago. This was a large bird. About two feet tall. Daughter ran for the camera and was able to take it's photo... but by then it was clear why it didn't fly or run away when she did; the poor thing has a broken leg.



So I ran through the house, out the back door, opened the gate and returned to the front with daughter. We were able to guide it, hopping on one leg, to the safety of our large, wild backyard. Allowing me come within a few feet of it, I was able to leave some bread and water within reach and the poor creature was left alone to rest. It's laying out there right now, secure in a pile of brush, every once and awhile raising it's head skyward when it hears the geese honking as they fly by.

If it's still there in the morning, I'll have to somehow get it into our kennel (which last year was used to transport a huge snapping turtle from our yard back to the local river) and take another trip to the Wildlife Sanctuary (where we took eight orphaned baby bunnies a few years back). Of course today being Labour Day, it's closed.

How does Mother Nature guide these creatures to me? Does she know that I have a soft spot for anything furred, scaley, or feathered? She must...

Sometimes I feel like Dr. Dolittle ... I can talk to the animals.

"If I could walk with the animals
Talk with the animals
Grunt, squeak, squawk with the animals
And they could squeak and squawk and speak and talk to me." - Rex Harrison, 1967

On the drive home

But when the little mischief is THIS cute, how can I get mad?

Jealous, maybe.

But not mad.