Each morning, when the neighborhood squirrels are at their most active, Joy is chomping at the bit to chase them down and herd them into a corner. Of course she wouldn’t know what to do with one if she ever caught it.
My neighbor and I sometimes leave bread for the squirrels, she even named one Harry. Today I saw Harry trotting through the grass to his tree home with not a light slice of bread in his mouth, but an enormous slice of pizza. I’m not sure, but I think it was the leftover Pa Pa Johns that Eddie and I ate last week and just got around to throwing the box in the dumpster. I watched from my front porch as Harry struggled up the tree trunk with the slice causing unforeseen obstacles. Gravity forced him to inch skyward, tail side up so he wouldn't fumble over the pizza. Although he dropped it and had to start over several times, eventually he made it, and I was glad. After all, everyone likes pizza.