Sandy Supposes....

Chitter Chatter

July 25th Prompt: Reflect on your week. Challenges? Successes? What made you smile?

         

         Funny you should ask about my week... I hesitate to mention this, but I am being harassed. I am puzzled and I grow increasingly concerned. Not yet panicked, I am looking over my shoulder and dreading the familiar call of my stalker. His persistence troubles me. Why me? What have I done to attract his wrath? Will I be able to reason with him? Is he actually a he?

         The little fist waved in my direction and the dark-eyed glare struck me as humorous at first. I must admit I sensed the strong emotion emanating from my confronter although I failed to understand why it hurled at me. The constant tail twitch, or more accurately the agitated thrash emphasisized the chittering barrage. Okay, I recognized anger when I saw it. What I did not comprehend and still fail to see is the why.

         Why did a red squirrel scratch it's way up to one of my camper trailer's opened windows to share its obvious displeasure with me? The rapid fire chirring and chattering indicated impressive lung capacity. I never heard a pause for breath.The first time this surprised me I knocked on the interior wall and the intense creature scampered away with a flick of its bushy tail, but no abatement of the tongue lashing. I sat inside at a table typing at my tablet. I believed this to be an anomaly.

         Within a few minutes, my accoster returned to the same window and punched at the screen. This did not seem necessary to me. I swear the arms were waving as it again subjected me to a furious piece of his mind. I repeated my get-away-from-the-window strike and for a brief moment that squirrel defied me.

          He jumped to the ground and reappeared at the screen door in an obvious hey-I'm-not-finished-with-you move. He peered in at me seated at the table and commenced to chitter-chatter as he vibrated with indignation. His red fur stood on end. He perched atop the metal handrail before he swung from it. I stomped the floor and despite his bravado, he leapt to the deck.

         Did this end the assault? No. He had to express his agitation, his distress by scrabbling along the awning for several laps. Then he clawed his way to the aluminum roof of the trailer where he skittered and zoomed for a few more moments. For something that probably weighs two pounds at the most, he stomped, not light on his paws at all.

         This strange behaviour continued for an afternoon.That squirrel had a mission and he expelled a great deal of raw emotion and kinetic energy in an attempt to communicate with me. But why? What had I done to attract this wrath?

         I'm not anti-squirrel. I let sleeping squirrels lie. I let scampering squirrels scamper. I let foraging squirrels forage. I believe that squirrel lives matter, but what is the matter with this particular beast?

         He clearly does not see this as a laughing matter. I'd like to brush this odd encounter off, but that squirrel had a bee in his bonnet, a too tight tangle in his tail. Now when I hear a chorus of excited chitter-chatters, I wonder if I will be at the centre of a squirrel plot.