Mud Season — a season all its own in northern Maine. Summer, Fall, Winter, Spring (at least on the calendar if not in reality) and then mud. Defined by your circumstances, a season filled with surprises. If you are a logger, mud season is the time of year that you work feverishly to maintain your equipment, change the oil, grease, power wash, check hoses and filters. If you are a dog owner, mud season is the time of year that you work feverishly to clear the winter accumulation of doggie bombs from your yard.
Mud season is that time of year when you patiently stand by the door when Rover comes in, and you throw a towel on him and grab his feet and playfully dry his paws, hoping the residue from the yard doesn’t wind up on your new blue sofa.
Mud season is that time of year when the rest of the world is washing road salt off their car and you are washing muddy dog paw prints off yours.
Mud season is that time of year when you turn into Hector the Inspector before you let Rover out, checking around corners and under decks, to make sure that Pepe Le Pew isn’t lurking just outside your door to regale your pet with tales of his winter woes.
Mud season is that time of year when dog groomers are booked solid and kennels are full as people pretty up their pet or make arrangements for a week at the spa as they go off to celebrate spring break.
Mud season, yep, an entire season of new beginnings for pet owners. Love is in the air, which you know if you have not yet made your appointment for Fluffy to have her spay surgery. Look outside the door some morning, or at sundown, and you will see dozens of male suitors sitting on the fence staring at your house like some kind of nightmare from a Steven King thriller.
Mud season, the time when the stray shows up at your door and you take pity because she is so thin, only to notice that despite her obvious malnutrition, her belly bump is more than just “little.” And then, because your heart is as big as all outdoors, you set up an entire room to prepare for these unexpected guests.
Mud season is also a time when shelters become overrun with the pets who are so excited about spring and new smells and new adventures that they sometimes wander far from home and end up being visitors at their local shelters. If your Rover slips his collar and does not come home, your first call should be to all local shelters, then police department, then start riding your neighborhood, putting out flyers and of course using social media. Help will be on the way if you ask for it.
At Houlton Humane, there are many animals up for adoption who have come in as “stray” and never been picked up by their owners. In just this past month 19 cats have been adopted from the shelter, always a wonderful feeling when a forever home is found, but always a curious question as to why the original owner never went looking.
If you are a lover of animals, you know about mud season, you know about making your bed around your cat instead of chasing your cat off your bed, you know about talking to your dog when you get home before you talk to your spouse, you know about the unconditional love you receive in return for your care, and you know the time and dedication it takes to feed one, let alone dozens of animals. Join Houlton Humane in the effort to care for the homeless, and if you can, please adopt.
