Dog update.

The Animal Control Officer who came last night was incorrect on some info. He said photographing the dog on our property was not enough, would not incur a fine for them, and that we had to catch it. He *recommended* us trying to catch it ourselves with treats and a leash. (This seemed a bad plan to me, but if it was the only solution... *shrugs*)

The Dog Ranger came to visit just now and said the dog next door was a sharpei, possibly would bite, that we should NOT try to catch it or touch it ourselves, and should not use treats and a leash. She said that dated photographs of the dog on our property *were* enough for a fine and that she had a farmer with a farm-cam set-up who gleefully sent her dated photos all the time.

And then she left a giant dog trap in our driveway for us to take down to the coop and set up for the weekend. Gotta go get bait now. Will get a photo of the giant dog trap later today. Bets on whether we catch our cat? We are so getting a farm-cam.

I <3 the Dog Ranger.

Oh also- our chicken pen *is* dog-proof, but the chickens were getting killed when I let them out of the pen to free-range in our yard. They don't range far from their pen. Free-ranging chickens on one's own property is allowed. Dogs off leash and uncontrolled are not allowed and are actually very rarely seen- maybe because this is farm country or the fines are so high and dogs are the main predator of the native kiwi bird. I have never seen an uncontrolled dog here until these neighbors. I suppose we could attempt to entirely fence our land, but our property is SO steep and SO awkwardly-shaped that buying the farm-cams would be cheaper. Nothing like endless fines to make a dog way too expensive to keep.

Edit: photo of Dog trap. Still have to go get proper bait.
dog trap

Lightbulb or Schoolbus?

So Meesto and I were watching North and South again, and he paused it at the scene where Fanny Thornton is sitting at the table with needle and thread. "You do that," he said.

Oh, no. "Do what?" Why am I asking? I already know.

"Sing like that."

Fanny Thornton hums wordlessly and annoyingly to herself in a high-pitched soprano as she works. "No, I don't."

"Yes, you do. Oh, no, don't stop doing it. It's adorable!"

Fanny Thornton is NOT an adorable character. And her voice is really, really, really high-pitched. Sort of the way my mother's glass-breaking soubrette soprano is also really, really, really high-pitched. And I'm basically my Mom's clone. And ... our next door neighbor, who is rather deaf, just waves to me and doesn't try talking to me because my voice registers for him right up there with the laughter of bats. You know, eeeeeeeeeeeee.

I know all this, logically. I just never think about it because somehow, in my head, to me, I sound all womanly and grown up and adult and impressive and not at all like a 10 year old girl.

And then Spencer, the giant Siamese boy cat, helpfully suggests, "MAU."

"Is my voice higher-pitched than the cat's?" I ask.

Meesto considers, looking back and forth between me and the cat. "Yes."

"Nooooooo!" I say, but it probably sounds like eeeeeeeeeeeee!

Meesto laughs. "Que es mas macho, lightbulb o schoolbus? Schoolbus!" he says, gesturing at the cat.

You know what high-pitched song I have been humming along to (probably annoyingly) with headphones on as I work? Oh, dear. The 14 pound Siamese Schoolbus is totally more macho than Dido.