This spring I noticed a particular squirrel when he and one of his friends would scamper across the telephone wires in my backyard.  They ran gracefully, twirled and ran some more.  This particular squirrel was large and chubby so he was easy to distinguish.  I wondered how he could be so fast and yet so graceful. 

Shortly after I noticed him running on the telephone wires, I began to notice how this squirrel loved to tease my dog Sabrina.  He would scamper into the yard, wait until he had the dog’s attention, then, race up the fence, sit at top, and scold her.  My dog would pace and stare in frustration at the squirrel sitting up above.  It often sounded and looked like the squirrel was chuckling. 
About a month ago, his cute little face and chubby body greeted me in the early morning.  I was in the living room when “Mr. Squirrel” crawled up the Sheppard’s hook (a metal pole) that was holding my Begonia plant.  He balanced his chubby body on his back two feet and looked through the living room picture window.  It almost felt like he was saying, “Hello, how ya doing today?”

Unfortunately, last week my neighbor found a dead squirrel on the median.  Most likely it had been hit by a bus or car.  I’ve lived in urban areas most of my life, so I didn’t give it much thought.  However, a few days later I realized it wasn’t just any squirrel, it was my squirrel.  Well, not really.  But, it was the squirrel who had entertained me most of the spring and summer. 

These days, my backyard feels a little bit larger, and my dog seems to want to be in the house more often.  Just like people, animals come into our life–some for a long time, others for a few moments.  They touch us, make us ponder and add joy to our journey.  I find it extraordinary that an animal as small and ordinary as a squirrel has the power to make a connection, cause a smile, or bring a tear.