How wonderful your life must be.
You frolic along the banks of the Minnehaha, enjoying the soothing sound of the moving water, the gentle summer breeze, the shade of the park benches, and the freshly mowed grass.
Hundreds of passersby dropping delicious human food for your endless consumption, so that you can fatten up for the winter. Rarely to you worry about a predator or motorized vehicle ending your little blessed life in your acres of protected park wonderland.
So, why do you insist on playing Chicken on the bike path? Are you bored? Are you sadistic? Is there a pile of acorns at stake in some bet you made with Mr. Chipmunk? Why must you run directly into the middle of the bike path and stop cold staring blankly into my eyes, only to scatter a moment before the pending crash?
My heart skips a beat, my hands squeeze the brakes . . . I see my life pass before me, all to save your life.
I screech to a halt -- 20 MPH to zero MPH in two seconds; you scatter off. Then, it occurs to me . . . you are nothing but a rat-like rodent with a cute bushy tail and you nearly ended my life in a monstrous bike crash in some rat vs. bike game of Chicken.
I only attempted to save you because of those big brown eyes. I'm such a sucker for brown eyes.
In any case, I have news for you squirrel, it's hard to get by just on smile. It's a wild world.
Screw you Squirrel playing Chicken. Next time, you're road kill.
Ellie
No comments:
Post a Comment