Unbeknown to my mother, I had a pet baby squirrel for awhile when I was 11. I rescued it from our cat, who was an excellent hunter, but very poor at delivering the final coup de grâce. The squirrel would sleep in the pockets of whatever coat or sweater was hanging in my closet, and I fed it oranges and lettuce that I pilfered from the kitchen. It was only when he became a little aggressive that I realized it was time to repatriate him to the outdoors. Right now we have a family of squirrels living in a tree in our backyard, so as far as evening entertainment goes, we’ve pretty much given up watching movies or listening to music. There are three babies, one very attentive parent, and a lot of activity in and out of a tiny 2″ doorway. I don’t have a good zoom lens, so until then these guys will have to suffice. The clear plastic bobble-head squirrel, a gift from a friend, is available online at squirrelsandmore. And the lovely porcelain nuts are from the talented K. Grandey who is temporarily on leave from making ceramic nuts so that she can care for a new baby. And while we are on the subject, one of my absolute favorite story books as a kid, The Meanest Squirrel I Ever Met, written by Gene Zion, of Harry the Dirty Dog fame, is reassuringly still available in used editions on Amazon. This post is for Sue, my friend and fellow squirrel fan.