Batman had The Joker.
Superman had Lex Luthor.
And I had… The Squirrel.
In the world of comic books every great superhero had his
villain. Not just any villain but a real bad guy who was his match in wits,
strength and devilish plans. My life in California’s suburbs was imitating
comic book art because I too had found the evil Yin to my heroic Yang and his
name was… The Squirrel.
The Squirrel had thwarted me by eating apricots off my tree
and decimating my internet connection with his fierce jaws. But he didn’t stop
there.
In winter’s chill he scaled a palm tree and shredded the
palm fronds causing them to rain down on my front walk like a biblical Egyptian
plague or that weird scene in the film Magnolia with the falling frogs.
In summer’s heat he stole a massive steak tomato from my
garden.
Now in spring I’d sprung a plan to be rid of The Squirrel
forever. My plan had one step—it was so simple that it had to work! I removed
all the fruit, vegetable and mineral elements from my front and back gardens
and—as everyone knows—without food The Squirrel would move onto another garden
to wreck havoc there.
Everyone on the planet knew this except Mr. Wonderful who
spent Sunday outside chatting long distance to his college pal while eating
walnuts. When he came across a walnut he didn’t like he tossed it on the patio
where—Duh, duh—The Squirrel appeared, ate it and laughed.
“Squirrels can’t laugh,” Mr. Wonderful said.
“You don’t know The Squirrel,” I said chasing it out of our
garden. “Now that you’re feeding it I’ll never conquer my villain.”
“Excuse me?” he said but I didn’t have time to explain.
This morning before breakfast I saw that The Squirrel was
back. Seated in the same area of the patio waiting for a walnut handout from
Mr. Wonderful. Typical. But I wasn’t the only one who saw the rodent. Jackson
crept across the kitchen then slipping through the open sliding glass door he
met The Squirrel head on. The Squirrel freaked! I saw the panic in his beady
eyes! Jackson chased it to the property line and watched it race up the camellia
tree and collapse on the fence
Have you ever seen a Squirrel have a heart attack? Today I
did. And it was beautiful.
For 30 minutes Jackson crouched at the base of the camellia tree keeping watch. Once The Squirrel recovered from his massive coronary
failure he crawled onto the roof and scampered away, all the while Jackson
watched every step.
Jackson, my Jackson! How proud I was of him! Fighting The
Squirrel was a fulltime job but finally I had help. Jackson the Cat was now my
sidekick—my Robin, my Lois Lane, my
hero.
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