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Squirrels

Squirrels

It’s Sunday and I’m watching a squirrel scamper over the frozen tundra of our back lawn for about 30 yards, finally settling for a moment on a four-foot- wide stump, the remains of a 150-year-old tree we had to have taken down for safety reasons. The squirrel might have lived there once, but there are hundreds of trees in the back yard that still provide affordable housing.

It’s 23° and it’s not wearing any clothes, though I’d guess it has a winter coat of fur. It’s ever-alert, pausing only briefly, working on a Sunday, looking for breakfast, which it will have to dig up. (I’m told by animal experts that squirrels forget where they’ve buried nuts. I’m told by visitors to my home that we have the fattest squirrels they’ve ever seen. Perhaps we have rodent GPS available.)

It’s dodging possible predators, and searching for food—today isn’t the sabbath for the squirrel. But I’m confident it’s going to make it to spring, ensconced in the evergreens at night. We have a hell of a lot of squirrels, at least one of which has managed to penetrate my “squirrel proof” bird feeders.

Maybe it’s not pejorative to call someone “squirrelly.” They seem to know what they’re doing better than a lot of people I know.

Written by

Alan Weiss is a consultant, speaker, and author of over 60 books. His consulting firm, Summit Consulting Group, Inc., has attracted clients from over 500 leading organizations around the world.

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