Serenity-Seeking Squirrels

What’s your favorite squirrel nickname?

Tree Rat? Seed snitch? Bane of the backyard birder?

Squirrels get a really bad rap. Not at my house, though. I harbor no ill will toward the bushy tails—no resentment for wasted seed, no anger at stolen suet. That’s because we do not feed the birds, who seem to dine just fine on our woods’ native food. Not to mention that when I film, I prefer catching the creatures in trees instead of hanging on feeders. So, aside from the racket our dog Remy makes when he spots a squirrel in a scurry, what’s not to love? Indeed, I’m grateful to the squirrels. They’re entertaining, and they eat tons of acorns. If you happen to have a lawn surrounded by oaks, you know why I think it’s wonderful when acorns do not have a chance to become seedlings.

But back to that bad rap. Apparently, it gives the little cuties a complex. Which could explain why I see them practicing tai chi in the trees.
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Stuck

Now, there’s a face that begs for anthropomorphizing.

Eyebrows raised, with a calm, resigned-to-her-fate demeanor, she must be thinking, ‘hrumph.’ A more excitable species might be musing in swear words. Not the unflappable painted turtle.

The lady had plenty to gripe about. She had meandered onto our walkway, the one lined with landscape timbers and punctuated with steps. And she was stuck.
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