Squid the Squirrel: Chapter 2

When last autumn began its flourish of golden leaves and frosty soil, I began putting seed out for the birds. My birds, as I often call them. My kind husband installed a covered feeder on the front porch railing so that come rain or snow, there’s always a dry spot for the birds to peck at a quick snack.

Squid the Squirrel quickly became familiar with this new arrangement. After decapitating and devouring my sunflowers, she frequented the feeder. As winter brought sprinklings of snow, Squid no longer lounged on her belly to eat, opting to climb entirely into the feeder so that she was removed from the cold, wet railing and pleasantly covered. With her little feet ankle deep in seeds, it was in a hunched, crowded, and particularly fluffed posture that she now feasted.

All winter long, Squid has frolicked to and from the feeder. And even though the feeder boasts a variety mix of seeds, Squid opts for the sunflower seeds, boldly digging her way through the mix and gingerly picking out her favorite scrumptious bits.

A few months ago, it seemed as if Squid had lost quite a bit of weight. (Concerning, considering her normally plump proportions.) She had also gained a particularly rusty red-color to her fur. (Strange, considering squirrels do not dye their hair as people sometimes do.) But upon further inspection, it became clear that this was a new squirrel. Squid had a friend, whom has since been dubbed “Squirt.”

It is now spring and nearly every day, I can look forward to seeing either Squid or Squirt visiting the feeder outside my window to feast on sunflower seeds and gaze back at me with happy little smiles.