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your mom of mayhem

April 26, 2016

This morning as I was scuttling around the house getting ready for work I noticed my cat sitting on top of the back fence. This is not unusual but it is always noteworthy, because (like all perfect cats of her age and breed) she is remarkably graceful for someone with such a competitive girth. I was considering taking a picture of her to share so you could all appreciate her incredible personal blend of poise, balance, and bulk, but then I noticed that there was an actual legitimate standoff going on.

Lucky stood at one end of the fence, intensity radiating from every emphatic line, glaring narrowly.

Several yards down the fence, two squirrels crouched together, aggressive, with icky little yellow teeth out.

Between the antagonists, sporting brand new itty bitty fat red bulbs, sat my strawberry plant. Territory had been established, and was being challenged. My mind exploded.

All logic left me and forgetting to take an amazing picture of this experience to show you, I ran yelling out into the yard and the squirrels each took a flying leap into the pine tree. Lucky shrugged and returned to her breakfast. I took the strawberry planter off the fence, noted sundry empty stalk and receptacles, and lost my temper with myself a bit. I moved the planter to the roof overhang where no squirrel, lithe he or limber he ever so well, will be able to reach it. And I thought to myself, but did not say to anyone else, that apparently Jason is right again. Feeding squirrels in winter will only lead to sorrow in the spring. Survival is a brutal affair.

I am

PS. I may not have the presence of mind to provide you with a visual representation of this story, however, when the dust had cleared and the plant had been moved and my rage was fragmenting slowly into self reproach, I happened to notice a witness to the entire performance, and I took a picture of him. You can tell by his expression that the whole thing was pretty epic.

witness

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