The Girls and Squirrels

It’s been on my mind to get cracking here. It’s already 8:30 p.m. and I’m not finished writing this piece I decided to serve two hours ago. I should quit now and finish tomorrow, or the day after tomorrow, or next week and take some time to work on the writing skills I've lost.

Impossible. I’ll do it now. The stories I’d like to tell are becoming dated and the photos I adore from late spring and mid-summer need to be shared before the first frost. The pressure is on and I want to regain some focus.

When I arrive home from work on Tuesdays I stay at home. Although the fitness center tempts me to come out and play, I know I need a night to cook, work around the yard, and do some laundry. Wandering and doing nothing is nice, too. Tonight, I’m thinking about what’s been going on with The Licker Sisters.

There was a young squirrel, you see, and Bella found it. There’s something wrong here. Those ears should belong to the old squirrel master, the other Licker Sister - Chloe. Bella hasn’t learned to view squirrels as intruders but she’s on alert in this photo. I blame her ignorance from spending her learning years in Delaware on a treeless acre. And, she's naturally and very sweetly, ignorant.

During Chloe’s learning years in Maryland, the girl sat under our sixty-foot tall Weeping Willow for hours, daring the “quirrels” to come down and play with her. I dangled leftover pork chops before her to lure her inside. She never nabbed a squirrel but that’s alright. That failure doesn’t diminish her skills in catching a European Starling in flight, mutilating and eating it, romping with and chewing the back of an Eastern Box Turtle, capturing a young wild rabbit not once, but several times. To that list add several moles. I was able to save the Eastern Box turtle – a story that will be told on another day. Her tendencies to hunt and stalk prey didn't please me much.

Next door neighbors Greg and Celeste at their kitchen window. "Greg, c'mere and look at Chloe running full speed with the remote control in her mouth! Mary won't catch her but she's trying...(hooting and knee-slapping)" Heh.

I wanted to find the Quirrel Girl and hope she’d enjoy Bella’s find!

Awww, Chloe. I have a surprise for you. (Knot in throat, wishing she could remember her years of fun. Remember with me, Chloe.)

Shhhhh… Be very quiet. There’s a quirrel out there!

I think I smell my woman. Yes, mother is here. I wonder if she has cheese or something I like in her pocket.

She doesn’t hear me when I hold her head in my hands and tell her nice things. When our noses rub, she knows what I mean.

Chloe, let’s go! Come on, Quirrel Girl.

Behind her ears, I lay my face on her neck and make announcements.

I see you now. Did you say...quirrel?

Chloe is in her fifteenth year. I celebrate and grieve every day. She’s not well. No, she isn’t and at the same time, she’s good. Her body is very lean, so when I smile at the bounce in her step, all is well. When she tiptoes to the dinner table to beg for a taste, all is well. A visit to the emergency vet in June was scary, but we'll get through - with her.

She found the party.

Did she see the squirrel? Nah... She felt it and wiggled. I'll take that!

I slid my hand under the window with a little offering. I couldn’t help myself.