It’s a tragic story. A community up in arms, frightened for their children, as one small body after another turns up. Flattened like pancakes. Stiff, furry tails sticking straight up in the air, a grim marker of a senseless death. You see them every day, littering the streets & sidewalks, while mothers scurry past shielding the eyes of the innocent children in tow, hoping to protect them from such a horrific sight. Along the grassy boulevards, little furry sentinels keep watch, like an honour guard to their fallen comrades. As my heart breaks for their numerous losses, so too, does my foot brake to ensure I don’t become an unwitting participant in this genocide. With my weapon of mass destruction. Let’s face it, they don’t stand a chance against my Expedition. Frikkin’ squirrels. Suddenly, they’re everywhere..a population explosion, the forest across the street from me alive with frenzied activity, causing me to wonder after their possibly nefarious motives for gathering in such large numbers. Could it be that they are gathering together to mourn those lost? As much as I’d like to give them the benefit of the doubt, I have witnessed far too many kamikaze runs from these deceivingly innocent creatures…their complete disregard for their own safety as they plunge in to traffic, willing to sacrifice themselves to wreak havoc on our roadways, leaves me to wonder who the real killers are here. What a deliciously malicious plot , for squirrels to rise up, band together, organizing suicide runs to cause accidents & delays, frighten the young with their carcasses littering the roads, all the while pinning their deaths on us, & our weapons of mass destruction. There’s one there, right now, the 4th in as many weeks, unidentifiable were it not for that tail sticking up like a flag of surrender, on the sidewalk mere steps from my home. While on the other side of the road, at the edge of the forest, you see the others gather, darting out in pairs like they’re trading off watch duty. And my son & I fight a constant battle to ensure the littlest ones don’t have to see them lying there as they go past back & forth to school. It’s the classic terror plot, striking fear in the community. Fear of stumbling across yet another dead little body. Fear of having the little ones seeing something you really wish you didn’t have to explain, as my baby girl asks me if that chinkmunk is dead. Causing them nightmares when they’ve seen too much. And of course, the ever present fear of running one of them down in cold blood. Within a two mile radius of my home, I counted no less than 12 of them, dead in the road or off on the sidewalks, just today. And for every one lost in battle, tugging at our heart strings, there are dozens more, darting in & out of traffic, hovering on the curbs taunting our brake pedals. Just waiting to tear apart my family, destroy my standing in the community, & label me a killer in the name of their squirrelly cause.
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