Squirrelly October

Turns out the squirrels that have made a nest between our second and third floors are FLYING squirrels. We cornered one in the house on Wednesday. It was adorable, and almost tame, not afraid of us at all, with the biggest eyes. It could fit in your hand. I didn't let the girls pick it up, although Greg the Squirrel Guy who came over later told us that they actually make good pets. We chased it outside, where it wandered around confusedly, blinking in the light (they're nocturnal). No wonder we've been hearing the activity at dusk. Poor thing.

So tell me he isn't the cutest:


It's almost a shame that we're trying to make him and his family homeless, although at this point I fail to see how that's going to be done effectively, in this old stone house with all kinds of crevices.

And then yesterday, when Ella and I were out in the woods part of the backyard banging nails into foamboard yellow eyes that we'd made as decorations for the Halloween party on Sunday, we came upon a dead squirrel. Actually, I started hammering into a tree at the edge of the meadow, and then she suddenly screamed incoherently and started running away. Now, Ella doesn't just scream randomly, so I ran toward her and scooped her up to find out what was wronog; it actually took her a second to point, with a trembling lip, and say, "There's...it's...there's... a dead squirrel there." And she burst into tears.

It turned out I'd almost been stepping on it. Ick.

As David pointed out later (I know, it's a little shameful of me, but I'm happy to assign The Husbandly Head the job of disposing of dead animals in the yard), the squirrel looked as though it had gone up to the Great Squirrels Nest In the Sky by having been dropped from a great height. A little flat, you know. I'm thinking the big, beautiful red-tailed hawk that Ella and I saw in one of the big pine trees in the backyard had a little accident with its breakfast; the thing hadn't been there the day before.

Must...get...back...to...Halloween...preparations...