This post from my previous site is another one that continues to gather regular traffic.
Way back in 2012, I was standing at my kitchen sink washing dishes when I saw something that made me stop in the middle of scrubbing a pot: a creature in my back yard looked suspiciously like a rat. Yikes.
I watched it for a while wondering how much rat traps cost. Then I realized that it looked like a rat, but it didn’t behave like a rat. It behaved exactly like the other squirrels frolicking around my yard.
It was a squirrel with no fur on its tail.
The next day a second squirrel with no fur on its tail appeared; this one was grey. What was going on? How could there be two squirrels of different colours with furless tails?
I have since learned that they probably had mange, but at the time I didn’t know that.
What made my heart glad was that all the squirrels, whether they had fluffy tails or not, played together happily.
It reminded me of “The Sneetches” by Dr. Seuss.
In that fabulous story, some Sneetches have stars on their bellies, but Plain-Belly Sneetches had “no stars upon thars.” In the beginning, the Star-Belly Sneetches won’t associate with their plainer counterparts. By the end of the story, after Sylvester McMonkey McBean sends them all on several trips through his Star-on or Star-off machine (only ten dollars each) the Sneetches no longer know “Whether this one was that one . . . or that one was this one / Or which one was what one . . . or what one was who.”
In other words, the Sneetches discovered that it’s what’s inside that counts. That’s something my backyard squirrels seem to know instinctively. They play together whether or not there is “fur upon thars.”
The Sneetches learned, the squirrels know it. Can we figure it out?
Good morning, Arlene. We have lots of squirrel traffic in our preserve and certainly on our own property. I like the life lesson you have drawn here, squirrels and Dr. Seuss. Thanks for the reminder! 🙂
I like to watch squirrels gambol around the maple in our back yard. Sometimes they stretch out on the fat branch at my eye level and watch me, as if to say, “Hey, who invited you into my yard?” They are entertaining animals.