BEWARE ALL YE SMALL CREATURES WHO VISIT HERE

Wednesday

Michael went back to work this week and I am on a Tuesday/Thursday work day schedule. It has just been me, the dog and the chickens in this house this week. Some time the cat rolls and complains about the teaspoon of food that is missing from his already full bowl of food. Mostly it has been pretty quiet and kind of great. I play whatever music I want on Alexa. I only have my own dishes to wash at lunch time. No one gives me side-eye when I start dancing like Elaine Benes and I can plop my yoga mat down anywhere I want. Occasionally I look over from my desk to the window that used to house an air conditioning unit. I have a clear view of the chickens being chickens. It’s a nice view.

Except when it’s not.

Wednesday, I stood at the kitchen sink, staring out the kitchen window while I drank a kale and watermelon smoothie. I saw something dart around inside the chicken pen. A squirrel had gotten inside. The door was wide open, but this dummy started freaking out and literally bounced off the walls trying to find an escape. I just stood there watching and thinking surely the little guy will figure it out. Then I watched all four chickens walk into the pen to investigate. All four chickens ran out of their own pen squawking as that squirrel went on the defensive. Just as I set my smoothie down, Josephine headed out the door. She was inside the pen before I could stop her and the next few minutes were minutes of horror as I watched my sweet Josephine catch that squirrel and then shake it until it was mostly dead. I told her to take it out of the pen and then she trotted proudly out with the squirrel hanging out of her mouth and headed to the back door. I yelled “DON’T TAKE IT INSIDE!” She dropped it and then laid down next to it with a smug look of satisfaction.

I could see that the squirrel was still breathing, but there was no miraculous recovery going to happen here. I went inside and sent a text to Sarah and Jeff, my co-workers I chat with daily. I told them what happened and the squirrel wasn’t dead and I didn’t know what to do. Jeff replied first with “Finish it off. Get a shovel!” My shoulders slumped and I felt a little sick. Jeff was right. I was going to have to finish that squirrel off. I looked out the window to see Josephine tossing the limp body up into the air like it was her new best toy and then I gathered some supplies. By the time I made it back to the yard, the poor creature had finally stopped breathing. All that was left was scooping its body into a garbage bag. This, I know how to do. The cat’s given me apple experience with cleaning up the dead. I might just need to add ‘good at cleaning up the dead’ to my resume.

Look squirrels, you’re just not safe in this yard. Enter at your own risk.

BOLD SQUIRRELS

The squirrels in this park are no joke. They will come right up to you and steal your cookie.

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The day before we left Boston, Michael and I bought some cheese, bread, a bag of grapes and a bottle of wine. We rode the bus for forty five minutes to get out to Castle Island where we walked in the Atlantic ocean along the beach. Then we bought a basket of fried clams and found a picnic table in a shady spot. We spread out our picnic and spent the afternoon grazing and drinking wine straight from the bottle because we forgot to pack glasses. After we washed the last grape down with the last of the wine, we loaded up and made our way back to our hotel room for a break from the heat.

Then it rained.

By the time we headed out to dinner that evening, the rain had stopped but the temperatures had dropped so that the evening was cool and pleasant. We decided to walk over to Boston Common after dinner and explore the park. We entered the Boston Public Garden first and I wandered over to take pictures of the pond while Michael wandered over to the water fountains. When I looked up to find him, he was standing there surrounded by squirrels and birds. It was like he’d just turned into a Disney princess. He looked at me and said “What is happening?” I slowely walked towards him and said “I don’t know, but it’s something pretty magical.” Turns out, the squirrels in this park are practically tame. You don’t even have to have a treat. All you have to do is get down on their level and hold out your hand like you have a treat. They will come right up to you. If you have treats, they will sit on your lap and eat them. I’m not talking about one or two squirrels here. Every squirrel in the park was bold as brass and would steel the cookies right from your baby’s fat little fingers. There are signs all over the park asking patrons to please not feed the birds, but nothing about not feeding the squirrels.

The park might need to rethink their “do not feed” signs.

Boston Common is Boston’s version of Central Park, though it is not near the size. At one point the Common housed Colonial militia, held victory gardens during the first World War, was a site for anti war and civil rights rallies and even the Pope performed mass there in 1979. Before all of that, the park was a place for the people of Boston to walk and for cattle to graze. If you go there as the sun is setting, the last few rays of the sun hit the tall buildings of downtown Boston so that they all look like they are coated in polished brass. It is a lovely sight to see. If you go though, beware of the squirrels or at least pack extra treats for them.