Fat rodents

I have this thing against squirrels.  Back when I was in college, one of those suckers jumped down off a tree, used my back as a springboard, then hit the ground running.  That stinkin' fat rodent scared the daylights out of me when it did that, and I have held a grudge against those little furballs ever since.

Fast forward a few years.  We live in a house that has a couple of trees providing shade to the front yard.  I've gleefully snapped pictures and pointed out the birds and chipmunks that visit our yard to hang out in the trees or on our grass.  The kidlets, however, are much more amused when fat rodents show up.

"Mommy, look at that squirrel!  It's running across our front porch!"  "Mommy, look at that squirrel digging in our lawn.  Think he's looking for some acorns?"  "Look at those two squirrels chasing each other up the tree!"  They could sit and watch those creatures forever.

Lately, I've noticed a particularly fat rodent has staked out his claim to our yard.  He spends his day digging up our lawn.  He chases other fat rodents up and down the trees. I swear I've seen him trying to eat the brush we keep out to clean off our muddy shoes. When I go out, I often return home to discover him sitting on our front porch.  He's just hanging out, happy to be out of the tree, I suppose.  I would not be surprised to see him pull out a pair of shades and plunk himself down on a lawn chair one of these days.  I kind of wonder whether he is checking out all the other fat rodents that stroll by, in the hopes of landing a date. He certainly seems gleeful enough, chattering wildly away as he chases them.

Horse and Rooster absolutely adore this fat rodent.  (Horse actually goes out of her way to point out every single squirrel she sees, knowing how much I detest them.)  They've probably named "our" squirrel and look forward to his arrival.  Pig Jr. can't be bothered worrying about fuzzy gray animals; he's more interested in trying to catch the birds that are out to steal our grass seed.  He has, on occasion, accidentally scared away "our" squirrel in his enthusiastic lunge for those with feathers.  My son has inadvertently got my back on this one.

I suppose that years from now, when the kidlets are all off at college and my empty house is echoing dolefully, I will look out the window and spy a fat rodent, possibly the same dang one, plunked down in the middle of my yard.  Instead of running out on the lawn, waving my arms like a wild woman, and trying to scare it away, I will stop and just watch that tiny creature as it makes its way around the yard.  I will remember how much my girls loved seeing squirrels, and how they could just stare at them forever.  I will probably feel a lump in my throat just thinking about them.  Squirels will one day bring a smile to my face as I remember the small children that once looked longingly at the wild animals and asked if they could keep one.

Until that day, you'll know me because I'm the lunatic out on the front lawn, swearing in parent-speak ("Dagnabit, you stinkin' fat rodent! Get off my lawn!"), chasing after a squirrel that's clearly laughing at me.