Bad Squirrel George

A few weeks ago, I wrote about George, the friendly squirrel who lives in my back yard.  I spoke of how George kept me close company while I was potting some summer plants, and how particularly pleased I was with three new pecan trees I had found sprouted in some of the flower pots.  I spoke of recognizing George’s likely involvement in the process, and of thinking him, and rewarding him with peanuts.

Ten days ago, I walked into the back yard and saw George with the most guilty look I have ever seen on a squirrel’s face.  He took one look at me, turned and bolted, and hid himself from my presence just as surely as Adam did hide himself from the Lord in the Garden. “George, where art thou?” I called, but I received no answer in return.

I looked around the back yard to see what could be wrong, and saw an old dead branch, about 6 or 8 feet long and as big around as my forearm, laying on the ground.  It had not been there 2 hours earlier when I mowed the grass.  I could imagine George and some of his adolescent squirrel pals jumping up and down on the branch, laughing and having a big time until it broke and they all came crashing down to the ground. “Oh, well,” I thought, “squirrels will be squirrels. No harm done.” Besides, that dead branch had been outside my upstairs office window, and I was glad to see it down without my having to climb and cut.

Then I saw the REAL CRIME.  George had uprooted the new little pecan trees to get to the pecan nuts still a part of the root.  He knew it was wrong and that is why he looked so guilty.  Truly, all creation has fallen and gone corrupt.

George, if you  read my blog, please know that I still love you and I forgive you. If you will plant me some more pecans next winter, I will try to grown them again next spring, but I will put them in a squirrel proof cage for their first year to help you resist temptation.