I’m switching gears today since it’s Friday. I’m using this day to post something different. Humor has always been part of my life. I also enjoy telling stories. So, I will begin with this chapter of Squirrel Tales. Stubby is one of my favorite squirrels to watch from my window. He’s the most recognizable because of his short tale. He’s also very funny.
It’s that time of year again. Spring has sprung, the grass is riz. I wonder where the flowers is. Oh, yeah, I know that’s an old one, but you have to give me credit for being educated. Listen, I know squirrels are kind of low on the skill set, but I actually did make it through one year of squirrel pre-school. My name is Stubby. There’s a reason for that. My tail is half the size it used to be. I won’t go into details, because the story is too traumatic even for me. Let’s just say I had an encounter with a snowplow and leave it at that. I used to be called, Woodsy Guy by the owners of the tree I live in. I felt like a very important squirrel because of it. Wouldn’t you?
That nice old couple who own that tree have been very diligent about keeping the bird feeders full to the brim, but lately they’ve been making our work a little harder. At first, it was a breeze making it up that pole leading to my breakfast. Then one day they added a cone to keep me from getting past that lay ahead. I made it as far as the cone with my superior climbing skills, but then it was curtains for me. Did you ever try climbing a cone? I mean it takes way more intelligence than you think. It wasn’t too long before I realized I was wearing the wrong shoes. I sped over to the nearby shoe store and stuffed my squirrely feet into a pair of climbing shoes with suction cups on them. After an interesting and slow walk back to my neighborhood tree, I finally made it to the waiting feast.
Humans can be very resourceful too. After beginning my ascent up the pole, I encountered a slippery slope. They greased the pole, making it impossible for me to climb. I must’ve given them a great source of entertainment as I gracefully slid from top to bottom in a flash. In fact, they even held up signs that had numbers on them, from zero to ten. The old woman always gave me a five for effort. The old man never went over zero. That fellow had no time for squirrels. At least those of us wearing special shoes.
My days have since changed and so has my diet. I no longer search for birdseed. I’ve moved up to collecting and storing nuts. Now if I could just remember where I put them.

That hurts just looking at it.
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