Day 306
Today as I walked across my lawn to check out the neighbor’s yard mauling/sewer repair job I nearly stepped on a dead squirrel.
For someone with a very stiff back who doesn’t bend very well or move quickly all I could think of when I jumped over the fat little body was … where is Mickey Rooney when ya need him?
I mean … there I was doing a mean jitterbug and I could have put any of his old-time musical partners to shame with my quick side-stepping, high-hoofing and jumping!
Egad.
Anyway … yes, a death occurred on my property. Apparently, Rocky (the not so good at) Flying Squirrel met his demise from what I’m surmising was a miscalculation in tree limb management … or high winds … or both. I’m thinking the poor little guy fell from my tree. And I have BIG trees … so, it was a long way down.
I barely saw him lying on the ground … he blended in so well with the dirt and the brown/gray grass. My breath caught in my throat – before I started leaping about – as it was so startling.
At first I thought he was just lying there – snoozing … but upon closer inspection (which really wasn’t too close) I realized he wasn’t just taking a rest or sleeping … he was pretty much dead.
He was gray and brown … nice and chunky with a big, beautiful full tail. And he was also hard and quite solidly dead. It made me wonder, actually, how long he’d been out there. Was he out there yesterday? The day before that? It made me feel badly.
I like squirrels. I know, many people think I’m an idiot. But I think they are sweet. I throw out extra crackers and peanuts for them. I don’t care if they are rats with bushy tails. I like my squirrels!
In any case … I got a box, my gloves, some plastic bags and a shovel from the garage and deposited his hefty little super stiff (like he was taxidermied in a sleeping position) into the bags, into the box and said a little prayer as I laid him to rest. In my garbage can.
All this brought old pet memories to mind … how many animals did we bury as kids in our backyard? We had a veritable graveyard going on in the back garden area … turtles, hamsters, a guinea pig and a rabbit. We didn’t bury anything bigger than the rabbit back there … but I always stayed away from the daisies cuz I heard that so and so was pushing them up … and well, it made me wonder if my parents had an after-hours thing going on!
I don’t think my kids buried anything at our home in Colorado … maybe a couple of tadpoles … maybe a hamster or two … but now, I honestly can’t remember. Not nearly the graveyard of my youth.
I live across from a cemetery now. I’ve always thought cemeteries were lovely on one hand … usually so pretty and well-tended and I actually like walking the old ones to see the intricate headstones and carvings and old dates. And on the other hand, I find it supremely morose to have decaying bodies in a park. A dead-people park. That’s just kind of gross!
When I went to Virginia the first time to look at property I had my eye on 3 acres of woods and an 1890 farmhouse that would have been fabulous for a bed and breakfast … except it was too far out from town and … the family plot was located about 10 feet from the back patio! Just a little something the realtor “forgot” to tell me about before I flew 2000 miles to see the house. In any case, I really didn’t want to have to entertain the dead Elliot family every time I was outside – as I’m sure I would have felt the need they were all so close to the patio! Drinks anyone?
In any case … rest in peace, dear Rocky.