We have a hole in our screened-in porch. My husband cut it out so the cat can go back and forth, get in out of the rain or get away from the dogs. Maybe we should call it a bird door instead of a kitty door because more birds go through it than cats. They hop around on the back deck….and hop right through the little opening then they can’t find their way back out. The cat really likes this. Trapped bird! Tasty treat! I’ve saved I don’t know how many birds–I open the screen porch door and shoo and shoo and shoo till I get the bird to leave. The worst part about it is that I have to chase the bird around the porch like a crazy person before it realizes the door is open and stops batting its head into the screens.
I was feeling quite virtuous yesterday after saving yet another sweet little bird from the waiting, dripping, patient mouth of Buttercup. Then I went to the store. Drove home. A squirrel ran straight into the road in front of me. ::thump:: I swerved. I nearly ran off the road. But I could not save Squirrel Nutkin. Is that a karmic tie? Ten birds up, one squirrel down.
A few years ago our dogs killed a squirrel. My daughter insisted on a funeral to honor its little lost life. “Squirrels have families, too!” she cried. Have you ever been to a squirrel funeral? How do you eulogize a squirrel? It went something like this. Dear God, he was a good squirrel. He never hurt anybody. Please take care of him and give him lots of nuts in heaven and no dogs. Amen. Then we picked flowers and put them on the grave.
If my daughter knew about yesterday, she’d make me go get that squirrel. NOBODY TELL HER!