none of these things are like the others

1. Today while driving home from up north, I watched a hawk flying alongside my car with a mouse in its talons, and I thought again about the amazing balance in nature that has created animals like mice and rabbits that breed like, well, like rabbits, because majestic birds like hawks and eagles need large quantities of them to survive.

2. It is calving season. Seeing those wee newborns started my mind wondering about cattle--so I googled a bit and learned that cows are pregnant for the same length of time as humans, a normal calf delivery is two feet and the nose first, and cattle ranchers watch their cattle round the clock during this time of year, checking the cows every three hours to make sure everyone is okay. As I suspected, those cows that were lying down today could have been napping or preparing to deliver a calf, but if problems develop during delivery, the cow might have an easier time delivering if she is standing up, allowing gravity to do its job. The other thing I noticed today about the calves--it is astounding how quickly they grow. It was obvious today that some of the calves were brand new, just born. Others were bigger, more sure on their feet, and clearly older. I look forward to the next few weeks driving up north and remembering again how much the calves remind me of a classroom of third-graders out at recess.

3. Yesterday, JoJo got me to follow her to the basement to free her missing squeaky ball. Last night--okay, this might take a bit of explaining, but--I went to the kitchen to do the dishes and Jack came out to help me. First he got out his bedtime pills and got out mine too. He follows the same routine every night; he places my ambien on the desk while he takes his pills so he doesn't take my pill too. Then he brings me my pill. Very thoughtful of him. Last night, we were both in the kitchen, tidying up, which meant Jack rinsed off the dishes and I loaded them into the dishwasher and then he wiped off the counters and I took some junk mail to the garbage, stopping to move the opened ream of paper from the desk to the open box of paper below the desk. A few minutes later, Jack asked me if I'd taken my pill and I said I hadn't, and then he said he'd left if on the desk, on the--"wait, where's that opened package of paper that I put your pill on?" And then we both searched the desk and the chair and the floor under the desk and under the chair and the box of paper and the opened package of paper on the box of paper. We could not find the little white pill. We did not want to give up until we found it, because, obviously, we can't leave pills lying around on the floor with the girlies coming over to visit and besides, there's JoJo--wait--where was JoJo? That's when she came up to me, as I sat on the floor near the desk and then looked at me while she walked a few feet back across the kitchen floor. Then she looked at me again and waited for me to get up and follow her. To the dining room carpet and the little white pill that was on the carpet where JoJo had been laying. I don't know if she didn't swallow it because it tasted nasty or if she is just so smart that she knew it would not be a good thing for her to eat it, but either way, how clever of her to have led me right back to it, right?

And if you're wondering what I did with the pill, the answer is yes.