boolie

I Am Become Death, Destroyer of Aphids

I’ve mentioned before how it sometimes seems that everything you see is an invasive species, such as the cute little ladybugs in my yard that turned out to be an Asian species originally brought to America for pest control. But this little ladybug, fierce and ferocious (if you’re an aphid), is not the same species! Have I finally found one of our native ladybugs? Alas, no, it has two spots too few. The seven-spotted ladybug is closely related to its American cousin the nine-spotted ladybug, but the nine-spot is rarely seen these days. The seven-spot is native to Europe and, like the Asian beetles, was brought over to the States for pest control and then established itself in the wild.

This one established itself on the petals of my purple coneflower. But the aphids are on the roses! The roses! For the love of Sammy, the aphids are on the roses!

Ah well, I’ve gotten a little disoriented in foreign lands myself.

Fly High

If you’re a bird that happens to find yourself in our house, I suspect you’ll have to evade Emma, but here’s a little advice: fly high. Unlike our other cats, Emma isn’t so enamored with high places and she isn’t much of a jumper. She’s been getting a lot more comfortable in her jumping since we brought her home, though, so I’m not sure how long the advice will hold.

Going, Going, Gone!

It’s a home run!

Emma’s a real sweetheart, she really is, but not if you’re a feathered cat toy.

Swing and a Miss!

The feathered toy evades Emma’s deadly grasp.

Emma & Me

This wasn’t the portrait of the two of us I originally wanted. In the morning Emma was in bed with me and when I rolled over to curl up beside her, she wrapped her paws around my arm. I thought it would make a cute picture so I tried to ease away and get the camera but she followed me downstairs. Later in the afternoon we played with by far her favorite cat toy, the feathered one, I didn’t mean to get my hand in the picture but I like how it turned out.

One More Time!

I can’t resist another shot of Scout as a kitten. We got her this toy beaver (the state mammal of Oregon, since Scout was our only native Oregonian at the time) so that Scout could have one toy that hadn’t previously been Templeton’s.

Of course Scout never played with it much, whereas Templeton took a liking to it. He didn’t play with it all that much, but sometimes I’d hear loud but muffled mewing and then Templeton would walk into the room. I didn’t even have to look at him to know that he had the beaver stuffed into his mouth, it was the only toy he’d do that with.

If we ever had an infestation of beavers in the house, I knew which cat I was going to call …

Smitten With Kittens

As long as we’re journeying back to 2001, how about another shot of Scout as a kitten? This one has never been online before. I’m outside with the cats at the moment, Sam and Scout are playing in the catnip while Emma remains a little more dignified and is off exploring on her own.

Couldn’t Have Come At A Better Time

For today’s post, I set the way-back machine to 2001 when Scout was just a little kitten …

The timing of Scout’s arrival was impeccable. While Templeton was vigilant in keeping the little gray mice in check, he adopted a live-and-let-live policy towards the large pink mice. Their population exploded as a result, but with Scout on the prowl, it wasn’t long before even the pink mice were brought under control.

A More Worrisome Sign

We’ve had two katydids this year, both of which are hanging around the side of the house where there are a handful of rose bushes and a few stray gladiolus (at least I think that’s what they are). This one prefers the gladiolus and is usually close enough to photograph, while the other prefers a particular rose bush where it is often nearly out of sight and too far away for pictures.

I’ve named them Katydid and Katydidn’t.

Perhaps an even more worrisome sign than saving the lives of your garden pests is giving them nicknames.

A Sign

I’ve adopted a live-and-let-live policy towards the katydids in our yard. Unlike the swarms of little aphids, there aren’t very many of them and they don’t do much damage, so I tolerate a few chewed up plants in exchange for a few pictures. It’s actually more than a live-and-let-live policy, as when I trim the roses I try to make sure that any katydids on the cut stems make it safely back to the main plant before the stems go in the yard waste bin. The fact that I go to any effort to save the lives of some of my garden pests is probably a sign that I need to see a therapist.

This one preferred the gladiolus over the roses, you can see the holes in the stem it gouged out. The flowers were already spent so it wasn’t hurting anything. I’d usually leave the spent flowers until I was sure they weren’t eating them anymore.