We had a little visitor today, an uninvited guest, on the deck. An unusual occurrence, just when I happened to have my camera handy.
The Douglas Squirrel (Tamiasciurus douglasii).
John Muir wrote of these native guys:
A King’s River Indian told me that they call him “Pillillooeet,” which, rapidly pronounced with the first syllable heavily accented, is not unlike the lusty exclamation he utters on his way up a tree when excited.
I wish I could report that I heard a “lusty exclamation.” Who wouldn’t, right? From a squirrel or anyone else…
He paused to scratch an itch. Don’t tell Becca, but this guest didn’t give a tail’s flip seem too concerned about the wirehaired pointing griffon who presides over this household.
I was concerned that the new herb garden the Hubs installed this weekend (and what do I do with five varieties of sage??) was about to get devoured. But once again, I was wrong.
This guy was all about the seeds. And yes, that would be the very post chewed on by our fierce protector when aggravated by birds on her deck.
Once realizing the Cirque du Soleil-like requirement to get to these particular seeds, he gave up.
And left as fast as he came.
And where was our fierce protector all this time, you ask?
Here, in the office, thinking about licking her butt really important thoughts.
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