When a squirrel jumps on your head...

I figure when a squirrel jumps on my head the first Sunday of January, I'm in for a most unusual 2015!!

Yup, Molly and I were headed out of the garage, me carrying the snow shovels, with the intent of starting on the driveway before Ken fired up the snow blower.

As we exited the back door, Molly bolted out first, which is entirely normal, only this time she must have startled a squirrel who must have been on the roof above the doorway, which is entirely not normal!  

Fortunately I was overdressed, wearing my heavy purple Marmot coat with the hood pulled over my cap and earmuffs.  The squirrel, in a panic, leaped from the roof to the top of my head, using it as a springboard to launch itself to the safety of the fence along our driveway.

It happened so quickly I wasn't actually certain what that muffled impact was until I spotted the blur of a squirrel tail disappearing into the safety of the big Austrian Pine in our yard.  It was such a fast escape that my trusty squirrel-dog didn't even realize what she had missed. And me? All I could do was shriek with laughter!!  

Honestly, how does one's day proceed from that?  What does an omen like that tell me about the year ahead?!?

Molly, our trusty squirrel-dog, who missed the whole escape.

Oh, yes, I'm all about omens this time of year.  Not only do I start a new year on Jan. 1 but then I do so another year older the next day.  January has always been a month of beginnings for me.  I figure it can't hurt to have a bit of an insight as to what to expect.

For instance, my horoscope for 2014 predicted "one stellar career year--one of my most successful years on record!"

Considering I hadn't even embraced art at that point in the year and was more concerned with reorganizing my storage closet, that was a good heads-up. 

At this point last year I could never have imagined the year ahead.  Wow!  And, who would guess that my passion for river driftwood would be the kite to lift me high off the ground, resulting in a new body of sculptural work?  

Molly gazes at our favorite neighborhood sledding hill.
  

When I looked up my 2015 horoscope, I was surprised to see that the last two years have "taught me everything I need to know about deep feelings, letting go and resourcefulness."  That is certainly true.

Last February we had to say goodbye to our strangely beloved cat, Callie.  I say "strangely" because I'm really not a cat person, but I had deep feelings for this one.  

She was a pregnant feline rescued by a kind-hearted cat-loving woman in Ohio, mostly feral but in desperate need for care. We got her in 2005, Jan. 1, after she snagged Ken's heart on a "let's go meet this cat" visit.  We think she was about five years old.

After we brought her home (in a pillowcase) we didn't see her for a week as she escaped to some still unknown sanctuary hide-out in the basement.  But, the food was eaten and litter box used so we figured we'd eventually see this new addition to our family someday.  Every now and then we'd get a "Callie Sighting," some blur of cat fur out of the corner of our eye.  

And, then one night after Ken had gone to bed, she appeared!  I think that's when my heart got snagged, too.  Not only was she visible, she was adamant about the proper reception including generous head scratching and tummy rubbing.  She was a Calico cat with a lot of emotional baggage but we accepted all her oddness as normal--and, I guess she accepted ours as just part of the bargain.

We think she was about 14 years old when she died.  Considering her start in life, she managed to secure the perfect indoor cat life for herself for the majority of her years.  It was very hard to say goodbye.

But, endings are always new beginnings and in December, when Ken returned from a trip to the vet's office to buy Molly's special diet dog food with photos of a black and white cat on his I-Phone, I knew it was time for another "let's go meet this cat" visit.

Rambo, at home on the down comforter.

Meet Rambo, the new cat in residence at our home.  The first time I saw this sleek black cat with white paws, chest and chin, he reminded me of a cat in a tuxedo.  I mouthed the word to Ken, Rambo? Really?

We've since shortened it to just "Bo," but this is a cat of a different color, as one might say.  

Not only did he NOT disappear upon arrival, he literally stretched out on the floor, giving us a straight-on look as if to say, And, what time is dinner?

Ken and his new feline BFF.

As you can tell, the adjustment time was sort of forgotten.

Our new rescue cat is a year old, has already had surgery to repair a fractured femur, and now firmly established himself as THE cat in our family.  Thank you to the veterinarians who repaired him, tended him during his recovery and matched him to a soft-hearted guy with an equally gullible wife and a dog who needs special diet food.

Here's to whatever lies ahead!

So, as we head into 2015 with a new cat, a squirrel using my head as an escape trampoline, and two art opening receptions (see my other blog, TobyBakerSparklingStories) this weekend, I can only anticipate the most wonderful 12 months ahead!  

As my 2015 horoscope tells me, "my imagination continues to be my best asset this year," so here's to whatever that brings!