Death of a Squirrel

I take full responsibility although my involvement was limited.

As the snow melts (warning: Weather Service predicts another huge snow fall starting tonight), the squirrel population has been thriving nicely since the oak trees dropped the same number of acorns as the United States spends on the Iraqi War. These rodents are so bold these days, that they have actually moved in their George Foreman Grills,and have regular tailgating parties where 7-10 of them can be seen in the backyard at any one time. So while the squirrels revel in the abundance of food, I salivate at the thought of eventually catching one of them and enjoying a tasty treat.

In comes Mr. Hawk.

For the past two weeks, our backyard has been blessed with the presence of Mr. Hawk. Type is unknown as supposedly most have migrated out of our area but this one has been very interested in our overpopulated fuzzy rodent population, and periodically successful in picking off one or two. Normally he is sighted in the back yard, surveying possibilities and The People seem most pleased at his presence.

(For the Bird Watchers who read: He is of moderate size with a very nicely speckled brown chest. His most distinctive feature is his tail which has alternative black and white stripes. The Woman thinks that he might be a Broad Winged Hawk but if so, this one missed its memo to migrate.

http://www.birding.com/topbirds/784bwh.asp )

Yesterday, The Woman and I were finishing our morning constitutional. The fog was quite heavy, and it had been a fabulous walk. There were lots of new things to investigate as some new neighbors have moved in and lots of debris left over from the various storms that have plighted our area prior to the holidays.

As we approached the house, The Woman noticed that all the squirrels were not moving and she looked up, only to see our friend, Mr. Hawk in our front yard. I was made to sit and be quiet (I *hate* this) but The Woman wanted to watch. One of the squirrels did a quick movement in one of the trees, most likely because of my presence, and Mr. Hawk did not miss a beat. He flew from the tree, snatched the squirrel, and immediately flew off.

I cheered. It was a great display of Hunter Showmanship. And I feel no guilt as an accessory to this act of Nature. I remained leashed and my squirrel hunting skills are limited; I applaud those who live in the wild and lead a life of which I only fantasize.


I Am Shiba. Now, if I Could Just Get Some Wings.