Runs With Squirrels

Standing at the picture window in my house, looking out into another rainy, desolate, cold day. I am, so far, unimpressed with Autumn on the prairie. As it seems to ALWAYS happen, we have leapt quickly from heat soaked Summer into early Winter. It is as if we have skipped Autumn, basically.

I want my fucking sweater weather, dudes. I want those 60 degree days and cool, crispy breezes. Instead, we have had five days of non stop stinging icy rain. Not a pretty pattering rain, but a slinky, misty constant....spray. It irritates me. Like most people, rainy days make me want to drink hot coffee and read complicated books. But, this sort of rain just makes you feel like snapping at cashiers and flipping through People magazine because you have no concentration skills. Even my car windshield wipers are confused. On or off? Neither. If I turn them on, they start making that irritating scraping noise that wipers make when there is not enough moisture. Turn them off and an annoying foggy mist  settles on the windshield, forcing me to manually run the wipers every few minutes.

Make up your damn mind.

Inside, the house is in a constant state of chilly. Just last week, I was barefoot. Now, I am wearing my thick socks and combat boots, wrapped in a bulky sweater that I have to take off every time I pee because it feels like I am peeing from inside a blanket. So, I sit and freeze pee, shivering violently as my ass perches on the newly cold toilet seat. Afterwards, I hop up and slide into my bulky sweater again, wrapping it tightly around myself. I go and stand crabbily at the picture window, looking out at my waterlogged tomato plants. They still have a dozen or more late blooming 'maters, hanging dripping on the yellowed vines, shocked at this treatment.

I try to motivate myself to go out and do some chores. Go mail some letters, return books to the library, anything requiring me to move. The pep talk is not working.

And then I see it. At first, I squint.

WHAT THE HELL IS THAT ON THE FENCE?

It looks like a brown vase with a red fox tail wrapped around it. I watch it carefully and see the tail move. Is it the wind? Is this an animal? The brown part of it is completely still. Then, I see it...faint movement. It is a small brown squirrel with the bushiest red tail that I have ever seen wrapped around itself like a cloak. I stare at it. It looks miserable. I think how uncomfortable it must be. The home he or she built is probably damp and squishy. No wonder it is sitting on the fence. It is probably looking in at me and thinking....

That bitch.

I don't blame it. My life must seem so effortless to this squirrel. I'm sure now that it is thinking, "What the hell is SHE acting so mopey about? She gets three squares a day and a warm, dry bed."

I have never been fond of squirrels. I don't think that they are cute. I have a friend who once had squirrels invade her attic and it took three tries by three different exterminators to get rid of them. I grew up in a farmhouse that had squirrels running IN THE WALLS at night. In our first apartment, I once left a window open and a squirrel came inside and we had a mad chase with brooms and a feather duster trying to convince it to go out the door when it preferred to squat behind our fridge and scare the hell out of our cat.

But, this squirrel and I have somehow bonded. I walk into the kitchen, searching for nuts. All I can find are some pastel colored jordan almonds. Well, I think, this will make him think less of me.

God, what a lightweight. All the nuts in the world and she chooses pastel colored jordan almonds. How adorable! Rolling of those nut brown squirrel eyes.

I look out the window and see that the squirrel has not moved and even looks more miserable than it did ten minutes ago.

Carefully, as quietly as I am able, I open the side door and slip outside. The squirrel does not move, but watches me. I hold up the pink, blue, and yellow jordan almonds in the palm of my hand.

"For you, squirrel," I say. "For you on this fucking wet awful day."

I set the almonds in the crack of our oak tree. I have to tiptoe to reach it, but I know that the squirrel will be able to see them. Then, I carefully back away, one tentative step at a time. Jesus. You'd think it was a grizzy bear, the way that I am behaving. The squirrel watches me as I duck back into the house.

When I resume my stance at the picture window, the squirrel is still there, but its tail is spread out. That is one impressive red tail, I think. I wonder if it is a popularity thing for squirrels. Like, all the other squirrels sit around and say things to each other like, "I can't help it. I just like Mitch. He has such a gorgeous tail on him!" Because this guy/gal would win a beautiful tail contest.

It makes no move to find the almonds. After a few minutes of gesturing at the window, I give up and walk away to plop down in front of the television and watch Naked and Afraid. When T comes home a few hours later, I will tell her this story and she will go outside to check and see if there are any jordan almonds gone. She will report that there are none left.

So, on this gray awful day.

You're welcome, squirrel with the red tail.

Just stay out of my attic, dude.

Comments

Popular Posts