It only seems fitting that I would be writing about squirrels this morning.
Out my window, I’ve been watching the merry band of the miscreant porch and yard gray squirrels that have been on an absolute tear this morning. One turned over the fountain nestled among the ferns on my deck, and another came tearing out of the cornfield, ear in tow like a deranged bandit making a run for it after a bank heist. And if the ringleader gobbles one more tomato, he may just find his way into the skillet sooner rather than later.
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