“If we had a keen vision of all that is ordinary in human life, it would be like hearing the grass grow or the squirrel’s heart beat, and we should die of that roar which is the other side of silence.” – George Eliot
Some squirrels can be downright sassy. -- Photo by Pat Bean
Travels With Maggie
Unlike all the other squirrels my canine traveling companion, Maggie, and I approached in the park early this morning, one didn’t quickly scamper away at the sight of us.
It held its ground, engaging us in a stare off. We got to within about 20 feet of it before Maggie could stand it no longer. With a sudden spurt of energy, she raced toward it.
She had 25-feet before her retractable leash would pull her up short, but she stopped before she hit the end. I think she knew, even before she started the chase, that she didn’t have a chance. She’s had a lot of experience with sassy squirrels during our many walks.
A small widow's tear blossom beneath a bush finally got my brain off squirrels and onto the wonders that Mother Nature always surprises me with when I take a walk. -- Photo by Pat Bean
The squirrel, which of course had headed up the nearest tree, was now looking down from a low branch chattering away in what could only be scorn for our intrusion. It had decided we were trespassers, that it owned the park and we had no business being here.
What, I wondered, had made this squirrel challenge us while all the others ran away.
It was like asking what makes some humans adventurous and some timid, why some of us love roller coaster rides and others shun what they consider such dangerous tomfoolery.
I often see parallels between animals and humans. I guess that’s why they’re often used to describe us humans, as in sly as a fox, slow as a snail, graceful as a cat, stubborn as a mule or swift as an eagle.
I never heard one, however, comparing us to a squirrel. What, I wondered would the adjective be: Sassy, brave, quick or foolish came to mind.
That squirrel hadn’t just taunted Maggie, it had taunted my brain.
