Remember Fatso? My seemingly resident squirrel? He thinks he is in squirrel heaven these days. On my walks around the neighborhood, I found a street lined with little oak trees, and ’tis the season for falling acorns. So I have been picking up a dozen or so each time I pass the street to bring home for Fatso. I put a half-dozen or so in a nice neat line on the deck railing, and sit back to watch the action. Fatso hears the sliding door open and runs down the spruce tree and into the lilac tree to see what’s up. You should see his eyes light up and his tail twitch when he sees the lined-up acorns. He checks for cats and other squirrels, then makes a fast foray to the rail. Oh boy. Nuts! Grab and go is his style, and he goes away with cheeks full of acorns, a happy critter.
I really hate to be his enabler. Pretty soon there will be no more acorns to pick up, or I will get lazy or bored and walk down some non-oak-lined streets, and poor Fatso will be bereft of his nuts (oh my, did I say that?). So, acorns now, but not forever. At least via me.