Squirrel Tales

We have a number of grey squirrels who enjoy our garden and particularly our bird table and feeder. No doubt they are the bushy-tailed descendants of the squirrels whose antics David used to observe when he was a teenager and whom he descriptively named “Mr Brown,” “Mrs Grey,” and “Mr Thin.” To my knowledge, none of our cats has ever managed to catch a squirrel, though not for want of trying. *
The squirrels are just too fast for the cats, and once they run up one of the pear trees they can then leap to the branches of a tree in a neighbouring garden to complete their escape. We currently have a very cheeky squirrel who frequents our garden, and who has become so confident about his own agility and speed that he can hardly be bothered to flee when the cats appear. Tom, being older, has become rather jaded about chasing squirrels, as it has always ended in disappointment for him, so he often just pretends not to see them. Floof on the other hand still tries very hard to catch them and has come very close at times. She is particularly good at speed-climbing trees and once or twice we have seen a squirrel only just keeping ahead of her until it reaches the thin branches at the top of the tree and leaps away to freedom.
Yesterday the cheeky squirrel (let’s call him “Mr Bold”) was hanging upside down by his tail from the bird table, gorging himself on the seeds in the bird feeder, and didn’t even stop when Flora appeared below him on the slabs. He then rashly jumped down onto the low wall and Flora went for him very fast; oh boy it was quite a chase, across the grass and straight up the tree. We were all having lunch in the back room at the time, and we leaped to our feet, cheering and clapping. He escaped of course, but Flora acquitted herself very well and was given much praise and cat treats when she came back into the house. Shortly afterwards, Mr Bold appeared back on the bird table, unabashed. This time it was Tom who happened to pass by. He jumped up on the garden table, within leaping distance of the squirrel who paused in his munching to see what Tom’s next move would be. Tom’s move was in fact to lie down on the table and roll around on his back, clearly pretending that he hadn’t noticed any squirrel in the vicinity. Indoors, we were crestfallen and not a little embarrassed for Tom. Even Mr Bold looked nonplussed as he continued his meal before casually loping back up the grass to the trees.

* Famously, Jack or Jill once brought in a frayed, wingless carcass that, upon closer examination, turned out to be a bat. Very Wuhan.