Porcupine Sign

Have you ever seen porcupine sign? Up 'til last summer I've only seen evidence of their presence from the quills in my dad's old Irish Setter. Kelly could NOT pass up a good porcupine. And he took it in the face every time. I vaguely remember dad cutting off the tips of the quills and pulling them out of Kelly's face with pliers. I guess he got tired of running old Kelly in to the vet whenever the dog got a snootfull.

I think I got a tiny taste of how dad felt when Kelly came running out of the woods looking like a pincushion. We had a dog that couldn't pass up a good skunk. Tawny would come running to the back door sneezing and wiping her face on the ground and stinking to high heaven. I'd roll my eyes and get out the stuff and wash her up with the hose in the backyard. And resign myself to about a month of a certain lingering odor.

Last summer I saw another kind of porcupine sign.

It's hard to tell in this photo, but this is the trunk of a cedar. There's a stand of them on our property that's being ringed one by one. Apparently, the cambium layer of cedar bark is to a porcupine what Lay's potato chips are to me. Irresistable. And this porcupine doesn't even need dip.

It makes me feel a couple of things:

1. Regretful. I like these trees. I'm going to miss them.
2. Wonderment. Our property supports so many amazing wild animals. Bear, bobcat, mountain lion, fox, deer, porcupine, squirrel, mountain beaver, rats, mice. OK, the last four are more annoying than anything, but you know what I mean. Lots of animals up there living off the land without any help from us.
3. Uneasiness. I like True's snoot just the way it is. Unperforated.