Our pointy-eared friend has disappeared. It's a pretty crummy d-word to apply to any beloved creature in one's life. It may even be worse than the other d-word, because we don't know if he is really...
or if he isn't.
Maybe he moved in with someone else, but I doubt he could find any place in the world with as many fresh chipmunks as we've got.
It's possible such a move could have been made unwillingly because, no matter how much we fed him or he fed himself, he has not even a micro-ounce of housecat chub and would never, ever condescend to wearing a thing so undignified as a plaid collar with a bell.
But, we don't know. Stupid d-word.
Anyway, here's the thing:
There's a chipmunk. If Kitzman were around, this critter would have been tossed about for an afternoon and then munched and crunched into oblivion, weeks ago, his tail stashed under the deck stairs with the multitude of others before him.
One time, we had a goose who built nests out of those tails and tried to hatch mason jars...
This chipmunk, let's just call him CM (for Chippy Monkey, which is what I call them when nobody is listening...please don't tell anyone), has made a home under our porch. Conveniently located next-door to the porch is our duck house. The ducks never finish their breakfast. Do you see where I'm going with this?
Several times a day, I see him scurrying away, cheeks filled to bursting with food pellets. Back and forth, back and forth. Okay, whatever. It's what they do all summer long, store up goodies for the winter. I know this. But people, it's not even June yet, and I'm sure this guy has at least 12 cups of grain cached under my house. When I think of him, gluttonously consuming hundreds of pounds of grain in the colder months, I shudder at the image that forms in my mind.
You know, the one of CM emerging in the Spring, hideously bloated and dragging his distended belly across the ground to the little pile of feed.
Okay, this is actually a dream I had the other night, just...so you know.
He can't help himself and his approach frightens the ducks away. He collapses in a blubbery heap to catch his breath, eventually managing to stuff his cheeks once more and drag himself under the porch. Oh, but here is where it gets ridiculous. You remember when Pooh gets stuck in Rabbit's door because he ate too much, and then Rabbit uses his legs as a towel rack until he slims down enough to extract himself? Well, that's when I wake up. CM is stuck in the lattice, his tubby, grain-fattened legs dangling helplessly while the rest of him is under the porch, scratching and swearing and counting, over and over, the grains he has dropped from his mouth. I really, really miss my cat.
aww <3
ReplyDelete