Little Cody
Forgive my lack of attention to VixVoice of late. This is said for the three people who read VixVoice. In any event, I've had a hellacious week with immense highs and devastating lows, all emotional. No one died. No one was maimed. No one is severely ill. So I'm not complaining, just explaining. The good news is that I hope to sign a new, two-book contract for Tally, Books Four and Five. I'm also working on a non-fiction book proposal that I very much hope will become a real book. Finally, I've gotten some great family-time this week, and I realize how lucky I am to have The Gang--Bill, Blake, Ben, Sarah, Melissa, Mike, Summer, Kathleen, and Peter--in my life. Good family...good friends...good critters--they make the world go 'round.
Enough dithering! I'm really writing about our Visitor, a fella (or girl) I've now dubbed Little Cody.
He/She looks a lot like our humongeous bear Cody, right down to the white blaze on the chest. 
Of course, he/she is half his size. She what we have here is either Cody's son or daughter or a mystery bear. I prefer to think of this newest visitor as Little Cody not simply because he looks just like our Cody after a shrink ray hit him. No, I think of Little Cody as such because he, like the big boy, is totally insouciant and utterly amused by his own self. 
We left our bird feeders out in error last night, and LC appeared around 6:45 a.m. this morning. Did our three dogs barking and yipping and howling bother him in the least? I think not! Was he startled when we tapped on the windows at him, less than ten feet away? Nope. LC just kept eating and eating and eating. In fact, he somehow managed to clear out one whole feeder without unhooking it or damaging it.
I finally had to open the French door, and yell at him to GO! He did so, but so slowly I could feel his pain at leaving his lovely and delicious sunflower seeds. So many seeds, so little time. Sigh.
WARNING! What follows is rated PG-13. Why? Well, it disproves the axiom that bears poop in the woods.
Yes, Little Cody blessed us with a fine mound of bear poop on our lawn. A first, and one commemorated by my camera. Gracie thought it smelled divine.
Here's a long shot of LC's bear poop on our lawn.
Here is a closeup of the poop.
Now it gets interesting... Gracie and I did a small Walkabout today, which is how LC's "gift" was discovered. 
As you can see, Gracie found the gift quite interesting. Bill and I were afraid she'd frolic in it, something bassets and other dogs love to do. So I kept talking to her, and telling her "No," in my usual firm (ha!) tone.
Here's the upshot:
This particular Gracie expression is called Indignant. She really, really wants to roll in it, but she doesn't dare while Bill and I are watching. She hopes we'll turn our backs, but she was out of luck.
Gracie, in grave disappointment, walked solemnly to the house. Right.
No, she most certainly did not. But that's another tale.
Toodles.
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