Miracle Almost Got Eaten!

Bad ass Miracle came from her depths

Picture this New England, America 2022. Five AM December.

Miracle and I are chilling on the back porch, our place of solace. I, in the white wicker chair and she on her little couch I made for her out there, with her pillow.

We’re just minding our own business, relishing in the delight of 50s temps in the still dark of the morning. I am chit-chatting with the other early birds, and I hear a rustle from beyond the louvered window by the back door, which goes out to a deck.

At night or early morning, you cannot see even the tree beings of the backyard. But I am used to the rustling of leaves back there.

Still remain weary though, because although it is wooded, with houses close by on either side and beyond the back woods of trees — I did once have a creeper camp out back there.

An actual human being camped out with a chair and everything. My window his entertainment. He was subsequently dealt with once upon a time, but still gives me the chills when I hear leaves a’ rustling back there.

My first thought at this sound was, oh, it’s the fat squirrels who hang out on the back deck. No biggie.

I look over at the louvered window and notice two glowing eyes.

Definitely not squirrel eyes.

It’s been a weird couple of days lately anyway. I’m used to woo, syncronicities, and the occasional otherworldly occurrence. But lately it’s been one right after another.

Is it a full moon?

But luckily, these eyes were attached to something very worldly, and it was squeezing itself through the gap in between the open planes glass of the screen-less window. Pop, the pane falls away, he has room to slide on in.

First, its head popped through. A brown furry head, looking straight at me with those eyes, and cat-like ears. I must have said in my mind — come on in fellow creature — cause he pulled his whole long body and bushy tail right on in.

What the fuck is that?

What.

the.

fuck.

He stood his new ground, breakfast was here after all.

I tried to take a picture first — no ::faceplam:: then immediately remembered Miracle was quietly dozing on the couch. And we were now both in danger zone.

I stood up, he moved closer.

It was a fucking fisher cat.

First time I had ever seen a fisher cat around here ever, and now it’s in our little enclosed three-season porch, looking for fisher cat breakfast.

Picture a weasel, or a ferret if you don’t know what a weasel looks like. A fisher cat, looks like you’d imagine a weasel to look. In fact I think it is a weasel? I haven’t studied that much.

Now imagine a weasel, the color of chocolate, on steroids.

We’ve been told to keep on the look out for them because they are carnivores and are known to eat small dogs and cats. With those teeth and claws, I can see why.

Now he’s in the little space with us, not two feet away. Going right for Miracle.

Back in the summer when the red squirrel squeezed through, Miracle hightailed it for the inside door. She was scared of Lil Red. Poor girl.

So I looked at the door to the house to see if she was frightened enough to go in. My girl is a lover not a fighter.

I have never heard her hiss or fight with another animal. Not once her whole life.

She was moving closer to it, hunter style. Low, crouched like her big cat ancestors.

Fishers are mostly carnivores, although they consume berries and fruit when available. They will eat rabbits, snowshoe hares, squirrels, raccoons, mice, reptiles, amphibians, insects, carrion (dead or decaying animal flesh), and occasionally outdoor cats. Even though fishers do not catch live fish, they will eat dead fish found on the shore of a lake or pond. Source

I guess with fisher cats, her story is different. She puffed into the stay puff marshmallow cat, each and every hair on end.

This thing wanted a Miracle breakfast. There was no way I was going to let that happen. At this point, I should have scooped her up and ran inside and let the damn thing hang out on the porch. But I’m not much of a flight-er.

I’m also eerily calm in dangerous situations. Eerily calm. Everything gets very clear.

And no one, or no being is going to hurt the beings I care for and love.

I put my body in between Miracle on the chair across from mine, and the fisher cat, not one foot away.

Again I know, flight Jenny, flight is safer.

This mf-er is big. Bigger than Miracle. And she’s no skinny minny.

One more step closer and Fisher knew I wasn’t fucking around. Hightailed it back out the tight squeeze of the window. Go find another breakfast dude.

“ (A fisher cat) It will bite a porcupine on the face.” Say what?! What the fuck kind of animal eats a porcupine???

Phew, get her inside immediately.

I sit outside/inside on the porch and think, seriously what just happened?

Miracle cries at the door. She wants round two. I put up a large screen until I can fix the plane of glass in the light of the morning without a hungry, brave Fisher Cat coming out of the shadows.

No one is going to hurt the beings I love.

And I continued writing.

As I do. : )

with love,

Jenny Lane

Have you had an encounter with an animal that could bite your face off (besides a human) ? Please share! Seriously, please do.

💜

~namaste~

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