Stranger in the Night

I'm sitting in the dark staring out the window, hoping he'll return a second time. I can't recall such a surprising visit in all my years of enticing wildlife into my garden. I've been thinking about him, trying to wrap my mind around how this could have happened, and whether my assumptions are correct or wildly askew.

I think it was the visit to Cedar Rapids that started my seductions. Our daughter and husband lived there for a time, and we had motorcycled from Seattle to Death Valley to Flagstaff to Iowa on a huge Route 66 loop to pay them a visit. Outside her window, an array of breathtaking feathered friends made continual visits to her feeders. Cardinals, grosbeaks, and others dressed in reds, golds, blues, yellows. It was quite magical, and I was hooked. Now I have graduated to my own feeders and get rewarded with flickers, downys, chickadees, nuthatches, finches, Stellar's jays, and even the occasional pileated woodpecker. A few fountains later, and we've added warblers to our list of visitors.

A pileated woodpecker enjoys his Almond Munch suet

I can't remember how the patio adventures first began. Some bedraggled feral cat must have shown up hoping for a meal. Who can deny a hungry cat? Out went the dish of cat food, and it's been there ever since, probably 10 years or more. It's now the favorite 'watering hole" for families of raccoons, opossums, stray cats. It was inevitable that some of the cats should choose to stay and now call our garden home. One pregnant female liked it so well that she brought her six babies home to live. That's a story I'll save for another time.

Mustachio, one of the ferals

My heart goes out to the constant parade of abandoned cats that find this little bit of manna in their wilderness. It really riles me how people can just throw away their animals to the elements. But we have been the lucky recipients of three of the world's best cats who found their way to our dish and into our hearts... Squeaks, Buster, Callie.

Buster under an Acer

Last night's visiter was new to the patio. Small, dark in color, furry. At first we thought he was a baby opossum. But on closer inspection, this animal had no tail, and a very blunt snout. Perhaps a mole? No, no digging nose and claws, and this visitor could run backward. This animal was like nothing we had seen at the dish before. He seemed to have no fear of humans. My husband labeled him "a huge twinkie with feet"! Squeaks was very curious as well, and too soon, before an identification could be made, the visitor made his exit.

It wasn't until the next day that I realized where I had seen this animal before. After consulting with Google, I knew. This was a guinea pig, probably lost, terrified. I grieve that I didn't try for a rescue. Someone, somewhere, is out there looking for the little guy.
Sometimes we humans get lost. It's part of our nature to stray. And we can end up alone, bewildered, confused, lonely.

Jesus told this story... my story...

If you had a hundred sheep and one of them strayed away and was lost in the wilderness, wouldn't you leave the ninety-nine others and go search for the lost one until you found him? And then you would joyfully carry him home on your shoulders. When you arrived you would call together your friiends and neighbors to rejoice with you because your lost sheep was found. In the same way, Heaven will rejoice over one lost sinner who returns to God than over ninety-nine others who haven't strayed away. Luke 15:3-7 LB

I remember how that felt! I'm glad my Owner rescued me, and He always knows where I am!