5. Squirrel Funeral

(Previously sent to friends as a “Happy Friday” email on 10/28/11.)

It started out as a routine day. I went out to get the paper first thing, and there was this squirrel lying in the middle of the road. It didn’t seem likely that the deceased expired from natural causes. We don’t have much traffic on our road, and squirrels are pretty attentive this time of year. Now, had it been springtime when there’s a lot of frisky chasing around with the girl squirrels playing hard-to-get … yeah, I could understand “distractibility” as a contributing factor. But this was fall, and they’re pretty focused on burying nuts … but not typically in asphalt. I’d have to say the cause of death was “suspicious.” I planned to report my findings at our next Block Watch meeting whereIhavetotalkreallyfastbecausetheylimitmytime.

I wasn’t quite sure of my next move. Unlike most manly men, I don’t have much experience packing around dead animals. I figured there were two possible approaches for transporting the victim: pragmatic and dignified.  I decided to go with pragmatic since I’ve always felt that dignity was overrated. So, I gloved up and applied a standard tail-hold method with Mr. S. dangling discreetly at my side.  I quietly processioned to the woods behind our house to find a final resting spot. My concern wasn’t so much with the neighbors; they’d know I wasn’t the squirrel-killer type.  The bigger worry was all the squirrels that made themselves right at home there. And, it’s not like you can just explain what happened to their pal.  Squirrels seem to have a language problem even when you speak slowly and use gestures.  This didn’t look promising for making inroads with the squirrel community. 

Walking slowly with a somber gait, I whistled a sultry “Don’t Worry, Be Happy” … the monotone version. I could feel my every movement being scrutinized from the trees above so I avoided direct eye contact. My intention was to show respect and be cautious not to drag the deceased on the ground … or fling him all around, even though I knew I could get pretty good distance if this were a hammer-throw event at the Olympics. I really deserve more credit from people for not acting on my impulses. 

I found myself digging several test holes before making one that was just right – one where I didn’t hit rocks.  Knowing surprisingly little about squirrel faiths and cultural protocols, I made the final arrangement with a simple fluffing of his tail that had become somewhat matted during the procession. It seemed quiet all around me … maybe a little too quiet. And, perhaps it was my imagination, but I sensed there were a lot more squirrels in the trees than I’d noticed moments earlier. After making a tidy back fill with reserved shovel patting, I dusted off my pants, stood for a moment with my head bowed, and tried to keep my mind from ruminating back to similar scenes in Alfred Hitchcock’s movie, The Birds.

L. Haymond

A-1 Rodent Interment