[Editor’s Note: Following is the cover letter than went out with my DH’s annual Squirrel Christmas Song email to his friends and followers of all things squirrelly. Since vegans tend to like most critters in general, I thought I’d share this with you. Cheers! Julia]
o my fellow sciurus lovers
It has been an interesting squirrel year. As you know, “interesting” is often used as a euphemism for “tainted by unforeseen impediments.” In this case it has to do with neighbors whose garden was, unbelievably, not intended for squirrels, and whose attic, incredibly, was not meant for rodent habitation.
Now, this is a Christmas missive so I won’t go into the unpleasantries of neighborly disputes. I will, however, say that when you wish to confront one of your neighbors concerning their wildlife-feeding habits, you should never begin with the phrase, “I have squirrels in my attic.” This is akin to the Hunchback of Notre Dame saying, “I have bats in my belfry.” Whilst it may be true in a literal sense, it does tend to take the wind out of one’s argument. At any rate, a certain truce was drawn up with said neighbor which included my no longer feeding the squirrels in our backyard.
As you can imagine, this has caused considerable distress in my life. The squirrels don’t understand this truce at all and still show their hungry faces at our window. Perhaps that’s why they’ve now moved into our attic. They do that to people who don’t feed them. And it doesn’t help that our Christmas decorations are stored up there. Perfect for sprucing up the old nest around this time of year.
So, lately I’ve been trying to understand what drives squirrels to tap dance in the wee hours. I thought they were supposed to be diurnal creatures, yet I can hear the little Arthur Furries up there strutting their stuff at all hours. I should add that I’m only assuming they’re squirrels, as I’ve never caught them in the act. A 170-pound man creaking up the attic stairs of a 100-year-old house has never been known to catch anything other than hell for making such a racket. However, other evidence has presented itself in the form of very audible squirrel chatter emanating from the plaster overhead. Squirrels dancing with the stars. And moon.
Since they seem to be having a regular hootenanny up there, I decided to give this year’s squirrel song a little country-midwestern flavor. In doing so, I brought my friend, Mindy, in as a guest vocalist — she’s a Midwest gal and she also lives in the country. The USA, to be exact. Perfect. Plus she can hit those notes that I can’t, now that my voice is changing.
Anyway, the whole point of this is that Christmas is hands-down the best holiday. It’s spirit is infectious and it’s intentions are pure. And squirrels are hands-down my favorite rodent. Their spirit is infectious and their intentions are purely singular: hoard, baby, hoard.
So sit back, pour yourself a cup of whatever, click on the link and give “Happy Holidrey” a listen. While you’re at it, you can listen to the squirrel songs from Christmases past. I think I can safely say, you’ll hear them nowhere else.
Above all, have a very, very merry happy holidrey!