Panic at the Disco

My front road is like a dance hall. Squirrels cavort back and forth between yards, running between trees, and enjoying the freedom of the roadway that only the truly Born to Be Wild understand.

Recently, however, a new being moved into the neighborhood. A neighbor that I had great interest in. A nice small brown furry little striped fellow who went by the name of Mr. Chipmunk.

He had two homes. One was across the street in the neighbor's garden.

The other was in our wood pile.

This amused me as I can identify the shrill of a chipmunk call from over a mile away, but I can most certainly smell one that is living on the same property in which I mark my domain.

So I am very excited by the latest addition of wildlife to our party atmosphere. Squirrels, Foxes, Skunks, Opossum- but most certainly, my favorite little quarry of a Chipmunk is always welcome.

Imagine my disappointment when the very next day, I went outside for my morning constitutional, and found him dead. In the middle of the road. The newest resident of our neighborhood, a victim of a hit and run accident.

I was aghast.

It is depressing enough when I see dead squirrels or rodents lying in the middle of the streets, but This Chipmunk was special. He was here for me as he moved into my wood pile and was in my yard.

And a reckless driver took away all opportunity for me to enjoy his company.

Like all Shibas, I mourn in silence but let this be a remember to everyone:

Chipmunks are stupid enough to get run over in the middle of the night so please, drive safely and brake for small furry creatures.


I Am Shiba. Some Are Not Born to be Wild.