Thursday, May 29, 2008, 13:27
Giant Hail
I was out planting more of the garden late Sunday afternoon when the siren went off in the little town five miles west of here. The sky was cloudy but did not look especially menacing.
A while before that, Randy had taken a grease gun out to the field to a friend of his who needed a grease gun for his disk. The field was only a couple of miles away from our house. Before Randy left, he had taken his pager out of the house with him, and just before he got in the truck to leave with the grease gun, a page came through saying there was a tornado warning for the northern part of the neighboring county and our county.
I went inside to check the weather radar and a map. It looked like the storms were going to stay to the north of us.
But when I heard the siren go off, I wasn't so sure the storms would stay north. As I planted sweet corn, I kept an eye on the sky to the west. Heavier dark clouds were gathering on the horizon and more dark clouds were passing to the north.
I stopped a moment to listen, and I couldn't hear any birds singing. Not even any robins. If the birds were quiet, I figured there was going to be a pretty good storm in the not too distant future.
When Randy came home a while later, he had received more news on his pager of severe thunderstorms and tornadoes.
I only had two rows in the garden left to plant (muskmelon and sunflowers), but since the sky was beginning to look quite menacing by then, I decided we ought to put Charlie in his kennel.
The sky grew darker by the minute, and in a short while, I could see streaks of rain to the southwest. By this time, Randy had turned on the weather radio. The forecast was for strong wind and hail.
All at once, it grew very dark in the house. More like it was after 9 p.m. rather than only 7 p.m. And then the rain started. And the wind. From the way the trees were moving, I think it must have been at least a 50 mph wind.
And then came the first CRACK -- followed by another and another.
As we watched out the bedroom window we could see huge hail stones falling. Kajun and Isabelle were running around, terrified. Isabelle was dodging right and left, trying to get away from the hail. Kajun stopped and stood with his nose almost on the ground with his rear end to the wind.
"I hope Isabelle doesn't run through the fence," I said as more hail stones fell and the wind blew harder.
"Head for the basement," Randy yelled. He scooped up Pixie and trotted down the steps.
"Henry!" I said. "Come on!"
Henry just happened to be in the hallway. But the steady CRACK-- CRACK-- CRACK on the roof and the sides of the house had turned him into one terrified little kitty cat. He took off for the living room.
"Katerina! Dora! Kitty-kitty!" I called.
"Don't worry about the cats. Get down here!" Randy said.
I went down the steps. But I couldn't stand it once I got downstairs. I had to go back up to see if I could get at least some of the kitties downstairs. Our little tabby, BobbyCat, when I had called "kitty-kitty" had run down the steps ahead of me.
I couldn't find any other kitties. They were all hiding under furniture, I think. And then, as suddenly as it began, the hail stopped. The rain was coming in white sheets. But at least the hail stopped.
Randy came back upstairs. "Pixie can stay downstairs for a while yet," he said.
Katerina and Dora were in the hallway. "Me-ow! Me-ow!" they said, looking up into my face.
"It's okay. I think the hail is done now."
Both of them went to the basement door, so I let them downstairs.
"Henry! Where are you Henry!"
I heard a faint meow from the living room.
"Henry!"
"Meow!" said Henry.
I finally found him behind the television set in the living room. His eyes were big and round in little gray face. When I talked to him, he slowly emerged from behind the television.
The rain kept up for a while after that. The weather radio predicted more severe weather following, but for the moment, it was just raining.
When the rain had slowed down a little, Randy went outside to pick up some of the biggest hail stones he could find. I have never seen hail like that. Some of the stones he picked up were four inches in diameter. But I think there were bigger ones than that because we could see them farther out in Isabelle's pasture.
The hail stones were all knobby, not smooth and round. In the middle of each one, you could see the small round dime-sized hail stone center. The ground was not white with the big knobby hailstones. But there were too many, as far as I was concerned.
The additional severe weather did not materialize, I'm happy to say. The sky stayed mostly cloudy but there was no more bad weather Sunday evening.
Randy did some research on the Internet and found out that this type of hail is known as "giant" hail. Apparently, the bigger the hail stones the more knobby they get. Before this, I have only seen smooth hail stones. And the largest I've seen was about the size of a walnut. That was quite a few years ago now. That storm came from the north, and I was afraid the hail was going to break the windows.
Fortunately, the giant hail stones came from the west. We don't have any windows on the west side of the house.
Unfortunately, Randy's truck has about eight dents in the roof and more along the driver's side. My truck only ended up with a few dents on the driver's side. I think the lilac bush and the pine tree helped shield my truck a little bit.
I am sure that Kajun and Isabelle were sore from being hit by the hail. It's hard to tell if they have any bruises because you can't see their skin.
Dora and Katerina
Dora and Katerina are doing much better after coming down with pneumonia following spay surgery. They really don't like the medicine. I don't blame them. But it's one of those things we "must" do.
Isabelle
Poor Isabelle. As if it was not enough that she was out in the hail storm on Sunday, she has a welt the size of my two hands placed side by side on her neck at the injection site. The vet came to do yearly vaccinations for both Kajun and Isabelle last Friday. Isabelle's welt is warm to the touch and she doesn't want to put her head down to eat out of her tub. I had to hold the tub up for her Monday morning. I also put hay in her hay net and hung it up in her shelter in case she didn't feel like bending down to gaze.
I called the vet clinic on Monday, and the vet on call called me back. He said to keep an eye on her and if she goes off her feed, someone should take a look at her. I think the welt is because they have an intern working at the clinic who tried to give Isabelle an injection first. Isabelle jumped away and was spinning around me in circles with the needle bouncing around in her muscle. Finally the senior vet stepped in and got the vaccination finished. Personally, I'm just glad the needle didn't break off because when he pulled it out, it was quite bent. I have been giving Isabelle horse aspirin to help for the pain. It's too late now, but I would really rather that she hadn't had a bad experience with vaccinations.
LeAnn R. Ralph
Tuesday, May 20, 2008, 16:47
Winifred Whitefoot
It's another bad day here at Rural Route 2. My old friend Winifred died at 10:20 this morning. She turned 17 years old on May 15. She and her sister, Guinevere, and two brothers, Duke and Tiger Paw Thompson, came to live with me on Memorial Day in 1991 after their momma was killed.
Their mother, Miss Kitty, was defending her kittens from a German Shepherd and Doberman cross dog. The kittens were two weeks old. At the time, I was afraid that two-week old kittens would be too young to survive without their momma, but they did fine. I fed them kitten formula with a syringe and helped them empty their bladders and move their bowels and kept them warm. And they grew up to be big kitties. Very big kitties. In their prime, they all weighed between 14 and 16 pounds. Duke is the largest at 20 pounds. Their mother was a Maine Coon cat, and the male Main Coones can reach up to 30 or 35 pounds.
Duke is the only one I have left out of the four.
Over the last few days, Winifred really started to go downhill. She has had a thyroid condition for the last six years and has been on medication for it. I tried running subcutaneous fluid to counteract the dehydration and to keep her kidneys flushed, and I tried giving her Nutracal and tried to get her to eat a variety of different canned foods that might appeal to her, but she just kept getting weaker and weaker and weaker.
This morning she made her way to lay under my desk. After I fed the horses, I tried to get her to stand up, but she was too weak to stand. I folded a big bath towel and put her on that so she would have something soft to lay on. At a little after 10 a.m., she became agitated. At one point, I think she was trying to vomit, so I held her up so she wouldn't choke. She went downhill quickly from there.
Randy and I will bury her next to her sister Guinevere and brother Tiger Paw and friends Nightshade and Lady.
I'm glad Winifred won't have to get any more pokes and won't have to take that bitter-tasting thyroid medicine. She had to take that bitter medicine twice a day for the last six years.
But, oh dear God, I am going to miss her. She always came to see me when I came home from an evening meeting, and she was very good at giving "head bump" kitty hugs on my arm or my hand or even my head if she could manage it. And whenever I was doing something out in the kitchen, she would come to see what I was doing. Even two days ago, Saturday night when I was making a rhubarb cream dessert, she came out to see what I was doing and to say hello and say "meow." She was always a "chirper" and a "talker." But now her voice has been stilled forever.
Tuesday morning after Winifred died, I sat down at my old piano and picked out "Amazing Grace" for her. If I don't try to put in the accompaniment, it sounds pretty good. But I will keep practicing it and practicing it until I can get it right. It's the least I can do for my Winifred.
Henry, Katerina and Dora are still under strict instructions to do funny things. This afternoon, I am taking them to the vet clinic. They are scheduled for spay and neuter surgery in the morning. Great. In addition to losing my Winifred, I can also be a nervous wreck about Henry, Katerina and Dora.
Winifred's full name was Winifred Whitefoot. Right after her momma was killed, a friend of mine came out to the stable to see the kittens. She picked up Winifred and said, "Why, look at this. She has a white foot. She must be Winifred Whitefoot."
Rest in peace, Winifred Whitefoot. You are now "Walking on Sunshine" with Tiger Paw, Guinevere, Nightshade, Juliet, Lady Dog, Krissy, Red, Irene and Dusty. And whoever else is there with them.
Someday when I cross over myself, I am going to have a glorious reunion with all of the four-footed angels who have blessed my life here on earth.
LeAnn R. Ralph