So I’m on the phone with my dad over the weekend, when he interrupts me.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen a red squirrel around here before.”
I’m thinking, “Well, that’s nice. Shouldn’t you save your martinis until after lunch?”
Thank goodness he went on to explain.
For the first time in years, he’d actually witnessed a red squirrel in he and mom’s back yard while we were talking. He’d seen them before, just never in this neck of the woods.
News to me, because I’d never heard of a red squirrel.
I couldn’t wait to tell the kids. They’re both squirrel crazy as it is, and this would be one more little factoid they could store in their nutty little brains.
Although he never mentioned anything about them flying, I was wondering if they could. We all know how, uh, squirrel-y, squirrels can be.
Which is about the time I glanced out the kitchen window, and swore there was a baby bat hanging right there in broad daylight for all to see. In the course of one short conversation, I’d learned about the red squirrel and witnessed a baby bat hanging outside the kitchen window.
After beefing up my courage meter (you’d have been momentarily freaked out, too…) I decided to take a closer look at the little bat.
Turned out, it was a dried leaf, stuck in a cob web. Who could’ve seen that coming? Maybe I was the one in need of a late-morning mimosa…
(UPDATE: One day after above conversation, Dad and I were in the car together: “There’s another red squirrel,” he said. Ironically, no one else in the car had seen it…)