Upside down, the tips of his toenails gripped the thin stainless wire that looped over the crook of the shepherd’s hook. His little snout poked into the bird feeder’s opening as the fur of his tail wafted in the wind. He ate and discarded seeds to suit his fancy with two grey juncos and a cardinal picking through his throw-aways.
I tapped on the window with the knuckles of my right hand. He turned his head in my direction and said, “Yessssss? What can I do for you.”
Since I don’t speak squirrel, he lost interest rather quickly and went back to his breakfast, lunch—brunch?
I lifted the lever to unlock the casement and began to turn the crank. That got his attention. With the skill of a Cirque du Soleil performer, he dismounted and landed lightly on all four paws without disturbing one shred of mulch.
Again he looked up at me blinking and said, “Yessssss? What can I do for you.”
“Stop eating the birdseed! Go find some of the black walnuts and sunflower seeds you buried in the planters last fall. Go on now—quick as a bunny!”
“Did you just call me a rabbit?” he asked before scrambling down the red bricks and into the tangled brush. “I’m a squirrel!”
Ever look at the creatures outside your window and feel a touch of envy?
It is better to do your own duty badly, than to perfectly do another’s. ~Bhagavad Gita