A few days have passed and there has been no sighting of the facially scarred squirrel, he had become my favourite and I miss him. He was particularly endearing the way when he was ready to eat, he would come looking for me if there was no food on the bird table.
He would go from window to window peering into the room, looking all round and if he saw me he would bang on the window with the flats of his hands, on noticing him I would give him a wave and off we would set to the side kitchen window. He always beat me and would be standing on the sill, little hands clasped in front of him patiently waiting.
Unlike some other squirrels he was not fussy, whatever I gave him he ate it, which of course endeared me to him even more, causing me to give him the choicest titbits.
I'd like to think that he is holed up somewhere recovering, but common sense tells me that he is not and I will never see him again. I feel sad to think this is most probably the case, but thankful for all the pleasure he gave me.
No comments:
Post a Comment