Gone to the Pigeons!

There are pigeon's nesting on my balcony. For weeks I'd noticed two pigeon's rummaging around and kept shooing them away. They were making a right-old mess on my balcony, but then for whatever reason the pigeon's moved the nest from the floor to this planter pot. Yes, I still tried shooing them away, but then one day I noticed an egg. The next day there were two and the mama and papa pigeons were taking turns sitting on them.

A quick Google of the internet reveals that these birds are a headache and to not be sucked in by the eggs and promise of cute little fledglings.... but admittedly I caved and now am counting the days until they hatch. Can't wait actually. Kinda excited too!


Funny thing is that I've been going to the pet shop for years, wishing I could have one but knowing I can't. Dogs, cats, fish and even birds. I love having pets but it's just not possible in my current living situation and with the life I lead and schedule I keep. So in a small way these little nesting pigeon's are the perfect pet! They feed and care for themselves and I get to enjoy watching them. I find it quite fascinating, really, that they trade off on the sitting duties or that the male with come and go in the afternoons with more items to build the nest. It's pretty cool...

On the other hand, my balcony is really small (about 5'x5') and so I refuse to give it up to the birds. In fact today I did a deep cleaning of it and even planted some lavender and rosemary into the planters... all the while the poor traumatized pigeon hunkered down on her eggs watching me with a wary eye but refusing to fly off. Amazing. Though she better not get too comfortable because as soon as her babies are grown and fly away into their own lives, I will be fully reclaiming my balcony and flowers will be promptly planted in what was her nest. :)

In the meantime, though, I'm going to enjoy watching the new life hatching on my balcony.

Stray Cat Strut

Strays are a fact of life in the city and I've gotten to know many of the dogs quite well as I've traveled through their territories over the years. On the most part they are kind, shy little things that are wary of being kicked, but quick to share bright eyes and happy wagging tails when given a kind word or attention.

One of my favorites is a black lab with a white neck who I like to call "Pepe." He was the sweetest ever and loved to play, but he's moved to another neighborhood so I don't see him as much anymore. BTW, no comments about me nick-naming a dog after a skunk. ;) There is another dog that I refer to as "Butch" that leaves everyone alone except this one homeless man who collects plastic bags in our neighborhood. Yap yap yap! Butch will not leave the gentleman alone! The guy finally got fed up with it and "adopted" another stray and walked with him on a leash. Butch leaves him alone now.

One of the funniest things I've seen has been a stray waiting at a crosswalk, looking left and right, before negotiating the busy street. Now the first time I saw this I thought it was just that particular dog and a fluke. But over the years I've seen this many times. On the way home on Monday I saw it again. This little guy ("Whitey") got separated from his buddy, who'd nonchalantly crossed at the crosswalk just moments before, and now was stuck. He looked right, left, walked down the street a little farther, looked longingly at the other side, looked right and left again, and finally gave up.

There used to be several stray dogs in my neighborhood and in the time I've been there I've seen several come, puppies born and, sadly, also seen many go from a harsh winter, disease or from catching the car they were chasing. One of those who has gone (disappeared, really) was the alpha male. He was a big fluffy brown mix of a dog that exuded power over his minions and had too much to do to pay any mind to passersby who were willing to give a kind word. He's gone now, though, and it seems no dog has stepped up to replace him. And those left seem perfectly happy to tolerate the growing numbers of cats.

Ah, yes. Cats. I did title this sad silly little blog "Stray Cat Strut" after all. You see, for the last couple of years an organization has come from Switzerland (?) to help with the problem of strays. They gather them up, vaccinate, "fix" and tag them before returning to their neighborhoods. I think it was easier for them to catch the dogs than it was the cats because I've noticed a decreased population of dogs and liters (literally) of cats. This has been expecially noticable on my walks as I've encountered dozens of kittens learning the art and street-life skills of dumpster diving and scraping from the now numerous older population. It's going to be interesting to see what happens when they take over the neighborhoods.

Life for the stay is hard, but several animal-loving locals do feed them and give them water, taking care of them. Occasionally, though, a stray gets a break and someone takes them into their home. On my block a little stray puppy, the only survivor of his litter, was gathered up by a young women in her 20's. "I will take him home and care for him," I heard her say to her friend as I walked by. Then there is Dandylion, a little fluff of a kitten that my colleagues found on a street corner curled up next to a piece of bread. Well, he (yes, he) batted those baby-blues and captured the kids' hearts who in turn gave eager/hopeful looks to their parents who gave in and brought the kitty home. This little fluff-ball now has a loving family and is thriving. :)

Thanks for joining me on this walk through the city, discovering the furry little critters and their quirks. (And no comments about it being just a little bit pathetic that I pay so much attention to the strays... I'm an animal-lover... I can't help it.) ;)

Day 11: $35.56 and counting.

I wanna be a dog

But I have the attitude of a cat. At Simpson a speaker once spoke on “Dog and Cat Theology” and I confess that many times I am more like a cat. I want things the way I want them and engage people and situations on my terms–-including (gulp) worship. The speaker punctuated the point by saying that sometimes when we worship, honestly, what God may hear in the music of our attitude is “It’s all about ME, Jesus,” rather than, “It’s all about You.”

This past week I’ve been choking on the hairball that is my ferocious felineness. Since being back from HA, I’ve been singing with the worship team for the International Church here in Skopje. And since David’s come back from the US, he’s been introducing us to many MANY many new songs, which really challenge us singers in the areas of reading music, learning new words, and finding the harmony.

The thing with parts is that every part needs to be covered. Since Soprano and 2nd Soprano were covered, I sang Alto, which having never really done it, was a stretch for me and I didn’t like it. Meow. My cat attitude hissed as this fact. I wanted to sing one of the other parts because I know them so much better… come, sing with me, “It’s all about ME, Jesus….”

Oh! Can’t you just hear the obnoxious whine of the screeching cat in that me rose up and drowned out any and all devotion in my heart last night? I knew what was going on inside me, but (gasp) didn’t pray to the Lord about it. Then at the close of practice, during our prayer time, one person prayed something like, “Lord, thank you for this privilege we have to worship you. These songs are not just empty words, but our heart of devotion to You, for who You are and what You’ve done in our lives.”

CONVICTION!! *hak* *cough*

It was then I choked on the hairball that had been ferociously forming around my attitude and desperately prayed to the Lord to make me a dog. To not care about what I may look or sound like, but to be wholly devoted and loyal. To just be happy and filled with love for being in the Masters presence, tail wagging with shear joy. And happy to obey whatever command He may give me.

Now, I must clarify that I’m not dissing on cats. I love cats. I'm very allergic to them, but I love them. But when it comes to my attitude, I wanna be a dog.

It is actually ironic to me that this attitude rose up. An Alto part is an underscoring part, one that supports the others. You may not be able to pick it out in the harmony, but when it’s not there you can tell the difference. Hmm... kinda like being a bookkeeper here in the Balkans, supporting a team of church planters, evangelists and teachers. Being a small part in a much bigger picture, or rather, symphony, of the Lord's here and around the world.

I’ve asked for forgiveness and everyone's been so gracious. I’ve started the day again on my knees, praying the Lord change my hearts song. “It’s all about YOU, Jesus…” And on Sunday, Palm Sunday, I will wag my tail with sheer joy just to be in His presence and will gladly sing whatever part He has for me in this symphony of His.

Woof.