ROANOKE TIMES
Copyright (c) 1996, Roanoke Times
DATE: Monday, October 14, 1996 TAG: 9610140098
SECTION: EDITORIAL PAGE: A-5 EDITION: METRO
COLUMN: MONTY S. LEITCH
SOURCE: MONTY S. LEITCH
I RAN into my friend in the birdseed aisle at Lowe's.
I mean, I really ran into her. She was barreling through, grim-faced, and since I was maundering on, gazing at thistle seed and suet cakes, crash! We ran into each other.
"What in the world?" I asked her. "What's wrong with you?"
"I have engaged the squirrels," she said.
It's a yearly battle for her: The Birds vs. The Squirrels. She intends to feed the birds. She ends up feeding the squirrels. Then she rails against them relentlessly throughout the season and tries to think of ways she can defeat them. Last year, it was an aluminum collar around the birdfeeder's pole. The squirrels chewed it to pieces overnight.
"Look," she demanded, after we'd disentangled our carts. She held out a length of lead pipe. "This year," she said, "I've got 'em."
I think my face must have blanched. She wasn't really thinking of going after squirrels with a length of lead pipe, was she?
I took a deep breath. I said, as calmly as I could, "What's that for, m'dear?"
"Squirrels!" she proclaimed. "For the squirrels! What did you think?"
The look in her eye ... well, it was rabid. I could almost envision her stalking squirrels through the underbrush, ready to pounce and bash in their pert little heads.
"I don't think you'll be able to get close enough," I said. "Squirrels are pretty fast." Is this the way to proceed in conversation with an obvious lunatic? I wondered. Who knows? In the birdseed aisle of Lowe's, on such short notice, it was the best that I could do.
But, "I won't have to get close at all," she said. "I can just sit at the window and watch them in their torment."
Writhing on the ground? Scurrying off in terror at the sight of her brandished pipe? What did she have in mind?
I said, "Darlin', what are you really gonna do with that pipe?"
"Squirrels!" she shrieked. "Like I said!"
She raised her pipe like a spear. "I'm gonna stick it in the ground! I'm gonna raise a squirrel-proof feeder on it's impregnable top! And then I'm gonna watch those stinkers trying to scramble up it; I'm gonna watch 'em suffer!"
Ah. So she was not as mad as she first appeared.
Mad, enough, of course. But not as mad as she first appeared.
"That might work," I said. But I've seen squirrels perform feats of acrobatic derring-do that would put the Flying Walendas to shame. They sail through the air. They casually lean from slender limbs to steal your seed by eating it upside-down. They walk the vertical cant of walls as if walking on solid ground. "That might work," I said to my friend again. "Especially if you plant your pole out in the open yard."
"Yes!" she cried. "Yes!" As if this strategy had never occurred to her. "Out in the open! Away from the trees! Away from their natural cover!"
"That would seem to me," I said, "a logical tactic."
But all of a sudden, she narrowed her eyes. She stared at me suspiciously. "Are you making fun?" she asked. "If this is some kind of trick," she said, "if you're in league with the squirrels, I can tell, you know. If this is some strategy you and the squirrels have cooked up ... if this is some `Please don't throw me down in that briar patch, Mr. Fox' ... "
Did I say "not as mad as she first appeared"? I took a deep breath. I squared my shoulders. "Honestly, Sweetie," I told my friend, "I'm not in the least bit squirrelly."
Monty S. Leitch is a Roanoke Times columnist.
LENGTH: Medium: 70 linesby CNB