Third of four parts
Editor’s Note: Here are some more favorite pet stories from readers of the Lehigh Valley Press.
Debbie Garlicki of Breinigsville sent in this pet story:
“My husband and I read your columns and love them in the Parkland Press. We’re glad to see you are back. Your column about Little Bear, Charcole and Blue was very touching.
Editor’s note: This is the second of three columns based on abridged versions of readers’ stories about their pets in response to a “Bud’s View” column about the emotional stresses individuals and families face when a pet dies. That column, “The Pets That Rescue Us,” is available on The Focus page of The Press web site, Aug. 31, 2016.
If you read my Focus column regularly, you know I often referred to Blue, Bev’s and my pet English springer spaniel. Blue introduced himself to his readers in his first column. The column was called “Blue’s View.” Sound familiar?
In a previous “Bud’s View” column, I wrote about the emotional stress my wife Bev and I faced each time one of our pets died.
I discussed the heartbreak we experienced when we lost our dogs, Bear and Blue, and our cat, Charcole, in the Aug. 31, 2016 “The Pets That Rescue Us” column.
The following stories were sent in by Lehigh Valley Press readers of “Bud’s View.” This is the first of several columns based on abridged versions of their stories.
This is a great time of the year for talking turkey since the holiday season’s main food staple on most family dinner tables is turkey. In today’s fast-paced world, unlike the early settlers, very few of these gatherings will be dining on wild turkey.
I began writing as a hobby about a year before I retired as an elementary school teacher. The following has been tweaked over the past 15 years or so. I’ve had requests each holiday season from readers and friends to see it again. It contains new information.
I adapted the holiday story poem, “The Night before Christmas” by Clement C. Moore, adding natural history information about the winter habits of Keystone State’s mammals.
The list of Pennsylvania mammals that are true hibernators, the ones who go into a coma-like state during the winter, is very short.
The Lehigh Valley region’s fall migration is just about finished. A few raptors, like the bald eagle, can still be seen gliding past Hawk Mountain observation points. In most cases, the birds that fly south from the area and the birds that fly south to our region for the winter have settled in.
When I hear the word migration, I immediately think of the north and south movement of birds during spring and fall. But there are other animals that migrate.
Each year as fall sets in, the northeast states become alive with the beautiful and radiant colors of the autumn season.
You have to feel sorry for people living in many parts of the United States who do not experience the changing colors that we have in the Lehigh Valley region. The area’s varied tree species and large timber stands can certainly compete with a giant box of Crayolas.
It is time for the local amphibians to disappear for the winter. Where do they go? They don’t migrate like many birds do.
Can you imagine how long it might take for a frog or toad to hop or a salamander to crawl to Florida? So, what do they do?
When fall temperatures begin to drop, the activity level of the three species of amphibians, frogs, toads and salamanders, tapers off. The activity slows to the point where they stop eating.
Late summer and fall wildflowers that add color to the roadsides, woodlots and fields of the Lehigh Valley are difficult to miss.
If you are stopped for a rural traffic light, stop sign or caught in a traffic delay, take a short break from the stress to observe nature’s colorful displays. It’s even better if you can find the time to stroll along a back road, nature trail or the edge of a field. Look for the perennial bright yellow tones of goldenrod and colors of the wild asters.
The death of a pet is equal to losing a best friend or a close relative.
Dogs give us their full attention and love in return for a simple pat on the head. They don’t hold grudges. They don’t argue. And tail-wags show agreement with everything we say. Our dogs think we are the most important and intelligent people in the world.
I don’t know why, but my wife, Bev, and I somehow found and rescued our last three pets. I found Little Bear on a cold February afternoon in 1996 while I was cross-country skiing along the edge of the neighboring tree farm.