Thursday, March 17, 2016

Lord Banjo on Daylight Saving Time

As dictated by Lord Banjo and transcribed by the royal Mum

Ah yes, Daylight Saving Time is here, but I try not to let that change affect my morning routine.  That means I want the royal Mum to get up, let me outside and start the coffee at the real time of 6:30 AMish.  I can be a bit flexible by letting her sleep in maybe 30 minutes, but a whole hour is asking too much. (Please note that Mom shall henceforth be known as the royal Mum as decreed by Lord Banjo.)

This morning when she ignored my nudging her hand, I gave a few short barks spaced about ten minutes apart.  She tried to ignore those too but finally escorted me downstairs. When she groggily opened the kitchen door, she was startled by a herd of deer darting away from the driveway into the neighbor’s meadow.  Me?  I wasn’t startled; their presence was why I needed to be up and about. Just like me, the deer prefer to operate on real time, not Daylight Saving Time.

I always know they’re out there and am especially alert when the bedroom window is open. I wonder why I’m the only one who can hear them. I don’t chase them off.  Lord Banjo is above that kind of aggressive behavior.  I just need to remind them that the royal nature preserve is my domain and that it is by my decree they’re permitted to enjoy it. They freely roam our yard, until one of us—me, the royal Mum or Dad—appears outside. Then they retreat beyond the fence where they seem quite content to graze in the meadow beyond the tree line, or perhaps they are content because the meadow is also just beyond my electric fence.

Sometimes, I stand on the porch and watch them watch me, but this morning, I made my way down the driveway and circled the backyard enjoying the enticing deer aroma while they all gazed at me adoringly. Yes, I’m adored, not just because I’m royal, but because the tale of Banjo and Bambi has been passed down through the years.
I had only been in residence a month when I came nose to nose with a tiny fawn one June morning. I wasn’t aggressive then either; I just wanted to touch noses and get a sniff. Bambi stood frozen in place even as the royal Mum saw the two of us and rushed to take me in the house.  She didn’t know me well enough back then to realize I wouldn’t hurt the little thing. Now she understands I’m a benevolent ruler, as do all of Bambi’s descendants.

What a glorious day that was. And so it goes; the life of Lord Banjo is splendid indeed.

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