I need a blog

I was doing Automatic Writing and my guides suggested I check to see if I’d written this weeks blog.

Nope.

Got hung up on the weekend with starting a shelter for the horses in one of the pastures, and also putting in posts for a new dog fence.

That’s my excuse and I’m sticking to it.

So - for this week, I’m going to post part of a story I wrote not long ago about a cougar (mountain lion) and her two babies. I’d like to know what you think of it.

Maggie watched her two youngsters, Jack and Fiona, chasing leaves. They weren’t very nourishing, leaves, but they would help the kits hone their chasing skills. Plus, they were having fun. They were little, they deserved to have some fun in between the serious business of learning to be a mountain lion.

They were so different from her last baby, Gerald, who had left home the year before. Gerald was very serious and also pretty attached to Maggie. She was all he had after his brother had not survived their first winter. It had taken all of Maggie’s skills to get him out of the nest and into his own territory. She thought about him now and then, and wished him well. She had done her duty, showing him how to hunt, giving him just enough love and just enough cuffs on the ear to make him strong. He had been a tough one, though. He never seemed to get enough love, and he refused to let the hisses and encouragement to leave deter him from staying with his mother longer than he should have. He was with her for over two years, always looking out for her, and causing her a lot of worry. He needed to stand on his own paws. But at last, he had reluctantly left. Maggie knew he found a territory not far from hers, and kept track of her.

She sighed. Gerald was a good boy, but he needed to look after himself. He was a big, strapping, handsome Lion. She couldn’t worry about him any more, but as a mother, he was always in the back of her mind.

Now Maggie had a new brood to look after. She had this pair in early summer, so the winter wouldn’t be as fierce for them. At six months, they were both strong and thriving. They listened to what she taught them, and had even made some rather comical attempts to “bring home dinner”, as it were - if you could call a small vole dinner. But they tried hard.

A boy and a girl. The girl was a total tomboy, keeping up with her five-minutes younger brother easily, even though he was growing faster than her. Maggie loved that she had one of each.

They were so different, the girl thinking through a situation before acting and the boy leaping headfirst into every possible situation. They had a lot to teach one another. A Mountain Lion couldn’t survive for long in the wild without thoughtfulness AND boldness.

They still had spots, but were slowly losing them as their bodies elongated and their coats became more tawny. It would be more than another year before they were ready to go out on their own. They had a good share of the sillies, which all mountain lion kittens were born with.

Curious, outgoing, needing to jump at every shadow and investigate any unusual sight or sound, one of Maggie’s primary jobs was to help them understand what was safe and what wasn’t; what could be chased and what should be left alone. Where to go in the woods, and what to stay away from.

They lived high in the Rocky Mountains, but even in this remote part of the forest there was still an occasional human who came by. About a mile from their den was a human den, what they called a house. The people were quiet and lived with the nature around them, instead of trying to bend nature to their will. They had some chickens and a couple of goats, and although it would have been easy pickings for the Lions, Maggie taught her kittens to never steal from the humans. It was better if her family lived like they were supposed to - as fierce predators to the wildlife around them. It was good balance. They left the humans alone, although occasionally they would see them on the trail near their den, and some other humans too. They were respectful of the land and of the beings who called this part of the mountains home. Maggie had watched many of them walk by, and she’d had the kits observe them quietly. They were not prey. They didn’t smell right, for one thing, and they needed to be strictly left alone because they were completely unpredictable. Too scary.

This is just the beginning of the story. It’s actually quite lengthy. Let me know if it draws you in. Are you interested in what happens to Maggie and her kits? (She’s a good mom).

I’ll add more next week.