One lovely early morning this week I was sitting at my laptop computer near my opened balcony door. In the corner of my eye appeared a dark blur; it was a squirrel making its merry way into my apartment. The problem was that the door was open a sliver, enough for a well-fed, but agile, Toronto squirrel to pass through, but not enough for it to get back out again when I shouted "hey!". The little bugger was startled out of its mind. It spun in the air, not far from my left shoulder, landed and ran up onto my desk... looking at me with that sweet, innocent little face. I got up, opened the balcony door so my fat friend could get leave without much fuss. "Come on. Out."
That's it, you flip your bushy tail at me, you piece a... get outta heea!
An old friend of mine has it right: Scientists at the
University of Toronto should genetically engineer some sort of glommer for squirrels. (And a really mean one for raccoons).
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In the service of feeble humour I'm willing to toss aside my love for animals.
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