We’re always looking for friends here at the little Burrow. This week we made a new one.
I would like to cordially introduce you to:
Mr. Little Little Nutkin, Nutkin John Marchsquirrell
Little Little Nutkin (as he allows only Lisa and I and selective relatives to call him . . . he would not appreciate strangers being this liberal with his name. He takes his name very seriously. And wouldn’t you, if your name was “Little Little Nutkin, Nutkin John Marchsquirrell?”) likes to visit the branch outside our window and nap and give himself baths.
Do we really appreciate squirrels? I definitely have not. Not until Little Little Nutkin showed up. We noticed him hanging out there one afternoon, and it suddenly struck me what wonderful little creatures squirrels are. I guess they’re just so common and so greyish-brown that we forget that they are special. They often fall into the same unfortunate lot as oatmeal cookies and pennies and dandilions—-muted wonders. Underappreciated or ignored.
Plus they’re always the first to be put in stews.
Granted, Little Little Nutkin is quite a SHARP and EXTRAORDINARY squirrel. But, he made me realize that God spent as much creativity and carefulnes on ALL squirrels. Just as he did the stegosauruses and the hippopotami.
This is how we found him—-lounging. “What is your name?” we asked him.
“Little Little Nutkin, Nutkin John Marchsquirrell, if you please,” he replied in a rather annoyed tone. ”Now if you will excuuuuuse me, I am very occupied just now, resting and cleaning my very fine coat and contemplating this life.”
And so he did
just
that.
And then I think he heard Lisa and I musing how we could possibly claim a squirrel of our own, and so he did this:
and bid us farewell for then.
Later, Lisa looks at me intently, and says,
“Hey did I ever tell you about that time I watched a squirrel bury a nut? When it was done, I dug it up and moved it. And then I felt bad, so I dug it up again and moved it back.”
Filed under: Uncategorized
