Trained Squirrel

I think there are more than one, but I can’t be sure. It’s because they are wile. They look alike and they act alike with a single-minded pursuit that borders on diabolic: Making my dogs insane.

The squirrel that tortures the dogs running on the cable next to the house must be stopped. It’s in the dogs DNA. Once, I reached out of the window and grabbed the cable—or is it an electric wire?—shaking it with a fierce cry. The squirrel barely made it to the other side of the tight rope and into the waiting trees. I thought better of it when I considered how I’d feel if the squirrel had lost its balance and fell off. What if the fall had killed it? So now, sometimes, I knock on the window and glare at it in solidarity with the pups. Not only does it not scurry away in terror, it stops, looks, and cleans its paws right in front of us.

Now we are enemies, my friend.