A Suicidal Squirrel's Guide to Life

A blog about all sorts of things. And squirrel stories. Sometimes.

Friday, June 30, 2006

Squirrel III: The Unreckoning

Once upon a time

Suicidal Squirrel

(insert theme music here)

was resting on a tree limb

looking down at the world

and being depressed

by the futility of it all

and pondering an inventive

and hopefully successful

method for ending

the travesty of his


He happened to hear the distinctive


of an

aging Winnebago


And the little squirrel

light bulb kinda sorta

flashed inside his brain.

Death by Winnebago.

A certainty of squishiness.

A squashing of squirreliness.

The little grease spot formerly

known as S. Squirrel, Esq.

And there it was.

Not moving quite so fast as

he had hoped.

Not nearly as fast as he had hoped.

This was gonna hurt.

Good-bye cruel world!"

he stoically declaimed

as he leapt to

almost-kinda-maybe certain


You can imagine what a squirrel

looks like when it hits

your windshield.


But that's what

windshield wipers are there for.




That's what a squirrel

sounds like when you

flick it off your


with the wipers.


Foiled again!

That Winnebago was

moving pretty darn

slow, though.

(ooh - that rhymed!)

So he ran really fast.

Scampered really, but

that sounds so painfully

cheerful for a squirrel

in such a state.

And this time,

he jumped out in front

of the

Winnebago of Doom

And waited.

And waited some more.

And got bored.

And ran around in cirles.

And read War and Peace

because everyone should read

War and Peace before they die.

And it drove over him.

But squirrels

are rather short creatures.

So it just kinda

shaved his ears off.


That's what a squirrel

sounds like when

you shave it's ears off.

(Don’t ask.)

But squirrels without ears

can't hear all that well,

so to him,

it probably just sounded

more like


So he scurried and hurried

in a squirrel-like way

(note the avoidance of scampering)

and got in front of it again.

And this time,

he lay down in the road,

and crossed his little

squirrel fingers,

and squeezed his

little squirrel eyes

tight shut,

and said his little

squirrel prayers,

and kissed his

little squirrel ass


And then it hurt really




And he opened his eyes,

and he wasn't a little

squirrel angel.

But his tail was really



That really sucked.


You don't even want

that translated.

"Durn fool squirrel!"

he heard the Winnebago

driver yell.

And so he peeled

his flattened out

tail off the road.

And rolled it up

like some sort

of really truly sick

furry grey fruit


Like a fruit rollup

would really look

if it were left out

for a really long time

if it were made

out of real fruit

and didn't have more

preservatives than

a mortuary.


And then he sorta

limped his earless

self back to the tree

to ponder

for another day.

And when the other

squirrels made fun

of him -

and really how could

they not -

just picture it -

he taped some

nut shells to his head

for ears

and poofed his tail

up again

(but it was never quite the same)

and sulked

a lot

like always.

And no one ever

wondered why he


Suicidal Squirrel

(yep - theme music)

ever again.



not really

but that's one of

those warm fuzzy

sort of thoughts





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