A Short Squirrel Tale

I almost ran from a squirrel this morning. I hope no one was looking. I was walking down Main street when this squirrel approached. He was scurrying toward me like his tail was on fire and I was a pail of water. I stopped in my tracks.

I thought of crossing the street - hoping the creature would follow and get his bones crushed by a passing motorist, or two. I felt ridiculous. What if someone was watching? It was not a manly course of action. But before I could decide on exactly which course of action to take - the Karate-Kid-Crane-Stance, or the curl-up-in-a-ball-and-scream-like-a-girl defense - the squirrel dodged into an alleyway, from whence I soon heard the cries of a cat. Wow, I thought, even cats aren’t immune from the terror of crossing a hoodlum squirrel’s path.

It is Independence Day here in America and I was on my way to the train station when I was sidetracked by the aforementioned happenstance.

I wonder if George Washington ever ran from a squirrel. That notion hooked me up to an express train of thought. How would the father of our country have fared when faced with a savage squirrel such as the one I encountered? I know what you’re all thinking. “He would have fared just fine.” And you’d be right. He didn’t come from a spoiled culture like ours, with Luck Charms and Pop Tarts raining down on our kitchen tables. Guys like him ate squirrels for breakfast. But guys like him had muskets. When was the last time you even saw a musket? Exactly.

Today, someone like George Washington would be just as vulnerable to the taunts of a bully squirrel as I was.

There. Now I don’t feel so bad about myself.

I am now on my way to visit friends in Long Island for beer, barbecue and fireworks. I will not be telling the squirrel story right away. I will wait until I’m a few beers in and then tell them of my plans to make a coin purse out of the squirrel I strangled this morning.

Nah. They’d only cut me off.