"They have to eat too, Jack. After all, I never shot you for eating, did I?"
No, but when I turned 12 Dad installed a lock on the liquor cabinet and made a big deal out of it. I guess he thought I was stealing his liquor. I wasn't. I was stealing Grandma Bourbon's liquor.
Anyway, I counted 14 squirrels at the corn the other day. Word seems to get around and more squirrels show up all the time, and I fully expect that given the moral turpitude of the average squirrel, we should have a bumper crop by August.
Yesterday we had a brand new visitor, attracted by the squirrel population.
Mister Fox made his way from the back yard, through the side yard and out to the front of the house. On his arrival, the squirrels sought safety in the trees.
|Mr. Fox at Rest|
|Mr. Fox Not Paying Attention|
|Foolish Irate Squirrel|
|Mr. Fox is Awake|
I think I may rearrange the grain piles a little - just to make things fair, you understand.