All Out Bloodshed

As expected, the squirrels are now fighting. They bark at each other, have stare-downs and twitch their little tails, daring the others to come near the food. We have three that frequent the table-o’-squirrel food. We’ve grown quite fond of them, actually, and have named them: Chuck Norris, Bruce Lee and Jackie Chan. Chuck Norris is the fattest. He is also the alpha male. We think. He could be female. I can’t tell. Bruce and Jackie are smaller, and more timid than Chuck.

Anyway, the other day, the squirrels, a blue jay, a pair of cardinals (birds, not ball players) and numerous non-descript birds had finished off the squirrel food. Next thing we know, our trash can is turned over and Chuck Norris is sitting on the back deck halfway inside an empty Wonder Bread bag. Now, as predicted, their appetites have become insatiable and we have created cute, furry monsters. Next thing we know, they’ll take Moose hostage unless we cut open a bag of dog chow and leave it on the back porch. (“Back away slowly and nobody gets hurt!”)

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