IT STARTED RAINING ice about 3 a.m. New Year's Day. By mid-morning the Calftown Hart House backyard was a sheet of ice. The dogs didn't really want to go out but Sheryl managed to coax them for a potty and the daily walk was delayed.
|RIP, Calftown squirrel.|
"I almost feel sorry for it," I said.
"I do too. She looks shocked and scared," Sheryl said. "She'll probably have to move in with her mother-in-law." ACK.
Later in the day I was in the backyard trying not to fall and kill myself when I heard more angry chittering from the other side of the fence. There were two squirrels up there staring me down and denouncing the utter savagery of our dogs.
"Well, if your buddy hadn't been so fat, you wouldn't be mourning," I said.
The next day we went on our usual cemetery walk and observed the utter savagery of nature in general. There was a squirrel up ahead on its haunches looking around when a hawk came out of nowhere, snatched up his dinner and flew toward the river. Genie chased after it for a bit but then realized the hawk was probably in no mood to share. Sometimes I wonder if Malcolm, a smaller dog, could be snatched up too, so we are always careful and on the lookout for birds of prey.
Anyway, dogs and nature 2, squirrels 0. Off and running in the new year!
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