I’d be curious to know how it got the thing. A raccoon possibly, maybe a possum: one day last week, I looked out the window to see an empty peanut butter jar out by the olive tree. (Okay, olive you try thinking of those two flavors together for a moment.)
We recycle such jars, but it had to have still smelled of peanuts. So okay, that one actually makes sense. The stolen jar, I mean.
Now, earlier in the spring I had a milk jug outside for watering my amaryllises, and I watched some ambitious squirrel rolling and pushing it across the yard to do just what with it, I have no idea. It was quite the sight. It seemed he was trying to impress his lady love with it. Look! A portable lightweight nest! (He’d chewed a large hole in the side.) Or, or, an exercise ball! Or…! Isn’t this just the coolest thing! It seemed he wanted to carry it up the tree.
And he had fun fun fun till the owner took the milk jug away.
Now, that peanut butter makes more sense.
But explain this one to me. I can quite promise you it wasn’t there yesterday. (Although, come to think of it, today was the recycling pick up–there was a breeze–okay, never mind.)
I saw a black squirrel insanely curious a few hours ago, reeeeeeeeeeaching with its nose and then, oh so tentatively, with a paw too towards the new thing, its tail stretched hard straight back ready to whip its whole body around to dash screaming for the hills:
Does it taste good?! Will it BITE!? It flinched away, then turned back again, unable to resist, reaching to bat at the new animal-smelling thing to see if it would run or jump or fly.
And when I went outside, going, okay, what have you guys stolen from the can now, I reached over to pick it up–
–and it was a ball band from my yarn.