Yesterday, as I looked out of my window on the world, I saw a really interesting sight. A small squirrel, probably one of this year’s crop and rather inexperienced, pulled a stick across the yard. This wasn’t just any stick, it was a big stick. It was at least twice as long as the squirrel and fully an inch across. Fascinated, I watched that determined little rodent pull and tug until he got to the maple tree. Then, unbelievably, he started up the tree with the stick still in his mouth. It was slow going but he managed to get pretty high into the maple; he disappeared among the branches. Nathan was in the den and I called him to watch. Was the squirrel going to put his trophy into his nest? It would certainly be good reinforcement for the walls, that is, if the weight of it didn’t squish it to smithereens.
Maybe the squirrel had peered in the windows of the houses along the street and admired people’s Christmas trees! Perhaps he decided he would cheer up these gray, misty December days with a tree of his own. Thoughts of decorating that stick with acorns and bird feathers may have been dancing in his furry head, but alas! As Nathan and I watched, the almost-tree fell out of the maple and landed on the ground.
Did the squirrel just lose his grip? Was the drop an accident or on purpose? He quickly scurried after the stick and nosed along the ground. I’m not sure if he was hunting for it or a replacement, or just planning his next move. Now, I could scoff at the goofiness of the squirrel for thinking a small branch of that size would fit his airy house, but I look at it differently. The squirrel had a purpose, he had determination, he had a plan and he worked at it. Boy! Did he work at it! And, when he realized it wouldn’t work, he didn’t sit in his nest and sulk. He hurried down and started hunting for something else to fill the bill. I hope he finds it and, like the people in other types of houses, has a merry Christmas.
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