Before John, my husband, died he had a habit of sitting on the front porch steps. An old yellow cat always sat beside him on one side and a crow or a blue jay would take turns standing beside John on the other. Together they surveyed our short front yard and the people walking by.
John’s friend, the squirrel, would run up to the steps and hesitate to make sure everyone was on his best behavior then scamper up to John’s open hand. The squirrel lifted up one of the three peanuts John held, roll it around, inspect it thoroughly, then put the peanut back in John’s hand. The squirrel carefully picked up and compared all three nuts replacing them in turn to John’s hand and only then would the squirrel pick up the biggest peanut and run off with it.
Sometimes the squirrel didn’t run very far! Sometimes the little rascal grabbed one of my bonsai by the trunk, lifting my little tree up and out, and placed the tree and its exposed root system on the porch beside its half empty bonsai pot. Then the squirrel buried his peanut in the remaining puddle of dirt. How could I complain? But if I was on the porch I’d scold the squirrel. He’d glare at me then run off and pretend to search for an alternative place…. until I wasn’t looking! I repotted my tree several times a day.