Mi Casa Es Su Casa

The word must have gotten around to all creatures great and small in this area because I end up playing host to a variety of two- and four-legged visitors.  I had to usher out another one of those tiny peeper frogs from the living room.  It might have wanted to watch a little TV, but Frank thought it might be a squeaker toy and discretion seemed the better part of valor.

Stepping out on the deck with a pitcher of juice for the hummers (established guests), I saw this little fawn on the slope.  Not hard to see why the black-tail are also called mule deer with those huge ears.  This photo hog waited until I came back with the camera, took a couple of shots, and then chatted with him/her for a bit.  "Why are you out here all alone, little kid?  Where's your mama?"  Then off to the right, heading into the trees, I caught sight of the doe and another twin.  Neither my movement nor voice had scared the curious fawn, but I'll bet his mother gave him what-for when he caught up.

Not long after this encounter, I passed by the open front door and there was one of the turkey flocks in the herb garden, scratching in the leaves and doing a little weeding in the process.  What made this group unusual was that a couple of the hens had bedded down right up against the front porch, settling in and making themselves comfortable.  Bessie Anne lies in the doorway to keep watch on the property, and the hens paid her no mind.  I think this "my house is your house" business is getting out of hand.