One day last week I heard a squirrel squawking up a storm. It sounded like more than their usual squawking, like maybe something was wrong and it was injured or trapped by something. I went out to investigate and found this squirrel stretched between two posts on the pergola. It stopped squawking and looked down at me like, “what?” It didn’t look like it was in any kind of distress so I went back in the house without trying to figure out why it was doing the splits on the pergola.
Yesterday, I heard a very high-pitched, squeaky kind of squawking coming from the back yard. I immediately recognized it as the squeaky chirp of one of the little Douglas squirrels. We had one visit last week so I expected to see the same one. Instead, it was the one with the black-tipped tail that was here a couple of months ago.
Frosty, our 18-year-old cat that hasn’t killed anything in at least a decade, was sitting on the deck staring up into the tree with a blood thirsty look in his eyes. I haven’t seen him look that alert in years! With a squeaky squawk that can awaken the blood thirst even in a semi-comatose zombie cat like Frosty, I can’t believe Little Red has survived this long with so many cats around.
After I retrieved Frosty, I offered Little Red a peanut and he/she came and took it out of my hand! I never thought I would be able to get so close to one of these little guys. Until just a few years ago, I’d never even seen one.