Suburbs or Wild Kingdom?


I was taking my morning walk around the neighborhood at about 6:45 this morning. Still half asleep, I glanced two squirrels running down a tree trunk. One caught the other, and they began to roll around in the grass. Strange high-pitched squeals came from the ball of fur. A few seconds later the squeals stopped, but the thrashing continued.

A few moments later, a third squirrel hopped over a fence and chased one of them back up the tree they had come from. The other didn’t move. The two squirrels in the tree chattered loudly, shaking branches all over the place. Soon enough, one of them fled the tree. The other stayed up there, crooning piteously.

Overtaken with curiosity, I approached the place where the other one lay. Sure enough it was a small squirrel, about a third of the size of an adult. It lay bloody and motionless. The crooning in the tree continued for a long time.

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