THIRSTY SQUIRREL

Missed him again! I tugged on the golden sheer, a diaphanous shimmer, that covered the tall and narrow living room window. Filtered light formed a shadow, created by late morning sun.

The object of my frustration was a crafty little squirrel. For several weeks, I was so focused on catching the clever little fellow, that it bordered upon obsession. His sole purpose seemed to be eluding me. So far, Mr. Critter was way better at his task, than I was at mine! Khloe, my little Yorkie and faithful cohort, let out a shrill yelp that punctuated the silence, and also summed up the entire situation. She seemed just as eager to catch the sneaky rodent.

Unfortunately more often than not, Khloe's bark worked against my efforts, but I appreciated her enthusiasm. Besides, I think Mr. Squirrel (not even sure it is a HE that I am pursuing, but let's assume), has a bit of a crush on my adorable, five pound Yorkshire Terrier. He always seems to appear while in the front window she lays. The wooden sill perfectly accommodates my pup's tiny body. She stretches out, letting the sunlight warm her cinnamon fur. Her amber eyes, become sleepy slits buried within her fluffy heart-shaped face. Until Sir Squirrel appears. Then she rises up, her tiny paws pounding glass, tail a thin curl wildly dancing behind her.

Casanova Squirrel plays it cool. A big nut bursting from his mouth, he quickly saunters halfway up the skinny tree that decorates my front yard. As quickly as he scampers up the length of the trunk, he edges down, just enough to hang loosely on a low branch that is closest to the window. He stares down at my beautiful canine. She gazes up at him, mesmerized by what she sees. He shakes his thick brush of a tail, and disappears for a bit. But he always comes back. They flirt like this a few times per week. Suburban fur buddies, cul-de-sac cousins, different species separated by thick window glass, yet they still make a firm connection. It has often occurred to me, that we humans could learn so much by witnessing how animals navigate life and each other. But, that is an entirely different story.

Morning's pale sun, soon gives way to bright summer rays. A quick touch of window pane, lets me know that August is turning up the heat. That furry nut lover would soon be back. His thirst would not let him stay away too long. An outdoor faucet, located in the front alcove of my house, protrudes from salmon pink brick, It has been leaking for weeks. A slow, steady drip that produces heavy water drops. Perfect for a small creature in need of a fast quench.

Normally I do not spend my leisure time stalking neighborhood squirrels. But, I had a mission, and a timely one at that. My community was sponsoring a photography contest. The theme was "Neighborhood Nature". As someone who greatly enjoys snapping photos with my smartphone, I was keen to capture the perfect theme picture. I do not own any fancy camera equipment, nor do I know the difference between and F Stop and a door stop. What I do know is that a squirrel parching his thirst from my outdoor spigot, would be the quintessential "neighborhood nature" shot. Besides, I was in desperate need of new patio furniture, and the grand prize was a gorgeous six piece set.

A few days passed since my last photo attempt. Mr. Squirrel was either in hiding, or he had found another little doggie to charm. Khloe was itching for a walk. I figured physical activity would do us both some good. Forty five minutes later, we were rounding the corner, a bit slower as we were heat tired. As I looped my fur baby's pink leash onto my wrist, I spotted him. Mr. "Thirsty Fur" was making his way towards my leaky pipe.

I scooped Khloe up under my arm, and dashed around the corner. We entered the back door entrance. With my precious pup deposited safely in a closed bedroom ( I didn't need her bark foiling my plan), I tiptoed to the front window, and quite gingerly, pushed the curtain aside. There he was. Greedily lapping H2O, each fat drop oozing out of the pipe and into his furry nut trap. He didn't seem to notice that he was being watched and photographed. Maybe he was too parched, or just did not care. We had been playing this game for so long. Maybe he let me win.

Mr. Squirrel still frequently visits Khloe. Charming her with his acrobatics, nut hanging from his mouth like a bulbous cigar. Sometimes he will stop and chew a bit, while he stares at the tiny Yorkie who taps at the window like she is applauding his performance. I decided not to fix my outdoor faucet. Texas summer heat is brutal, and I don't want the little guy to be dehydrated. Besides, I will always be eternally grateful to that thirsty squirrel. I think of him while relaxing on my new chaise lounge, the one that came with my winning patio set.