One of the Funniest Things I've Ever Seen

Just a minute ago (the kids are asleep, so I figured I better get this whole image down before I forgot any of the details), I was sitting here at my desk and I heard some shouting from outside. There was a group of four kids, probably between 10 and 12, in my yard.

This isn't all that unusual during the summer. We have a small drainage creek that runs along our property and dumps into the Sand Creek. Throughout the summer, these kids wander into our yard to fish this little drainage creek (which seems like an absurd waste of time to me, especially since we haven't had any rain in a month and the creek is little more than sludge right now, so the only fish brave enough to live in there have to be the freaks who are one good drought away from walking on dry land).

Typically, I leave the kids alone. I probably SHOULD run them off, I know, since, as the property owners, we'd probably be responsible if one of them got hurt--despite the fact that they're trespassing in the first place. But I don't, partly because I hate to discourage kids from doing something outside (though I would always appreciate people discouraging me from doing the same), but mostly because I am non-confrontational to a fault. Plus, I really don't want to set myself up anymore as a curmudgeony old guy by also being someone who shouts "Get off my lawn, you damn kids!" at our neighbors' children. I'm sure I will get to that point eventually, possibly before my own kids are even in middle school, but that's neither here nor there.

So they were out there, but there's one more little piece of setup information that I need to add before I get on with my story.

We have a squirrel infestation in our yard. They are everywhere. And they are FAT squirrels this time of year because they gorge themselves on the fruit that's available. They literally cleaned out our peach tree in less than ten days. ALL of it. It's not a full grown peach tree yet, but there were a few hundred peaches on there, and the tree went from all of its branches breaking under the strain of all its fruit to completely devoid of fruity goodness in a ten day period. The worst part was, we didn't get to eat a one because the squirrels always pulled them down about a week before they were ripe enough to properly enjoy (so they might be masochistic squirrels, too, purposefully torturing themselves by eating unripe fruit--and that might add a nice shade of nuance to this story that makes me love it even more). In addition to the peaches, we have pears, some apples, and mulberries--plus they tend to sift through whatever food we put out to compost. In short, these squirrels are well-fed and, because of that, they breed like nonsense and never go very far beyond the confines of our yard.

And they don't have to, because we have an abundance of trees, too. It is possible for them to start in the trees by the road and scamper their way all along the edge of our property and into the big, tree-filled adjacent lot without ever touching the ground.

Almost. There are a few stretches where branches or entire trees have fallen over the years where the squirrels have to do a bit of aerobatics to get from one tree to the next. More than once, I've wondered what would happen if they didn't make the jump as sometimes they seem REALLY close to losing their grip on the branches/leaves they cling to on the other side.

So, this afternoon, I hear the kids in the yard. Usually, I'll just look out my window here in the office to make sure they are only fishing and not trashing our yard (because a line has to be drawn somewhere--but even that line, if I'm honest with myself, would probably be drawn in very light pencil, just in case). Then, when that's what I see, I'll go about my business and leave them to wasting their afternoon sitting in the heat. But today, I couldn't really see out my office window because the zebra grass we have growing out there has all but completely blocked my view. I went to the living room and tried the window in there, but couldn't really see much there either. So I crept upstairs, careful not to wake the kids with our noisy damn stairs, and looked out the west-facing window up there.

And I saw something wonderful.

The kids were indeed fishing, and it only took a few seconds for me to verify that, but during those few seconds, a magnificent thing occurred. The kids were shouting about something--nothing in particular, just messing around. These kids are a noisy lot, and everything they have to say to one another, apparently, has to be said at a shout or they can't hear it. I blame the MTV. And none of them was really paying that much attention to what was going on around them. Until the squirrel missed his jump and landed smack dab in the middle of the group.

Suddenly, there were four very anxious boys jumping up and gathering up their things and running around as if, well, a small tree-favoring creature had just fallen in their midst with a thump that I could hear through the window. Really, I can't fault them for their reaction. I would have freaked out then got the hell out of there, too. It was like watching a Vaudeville routine. They were bumping into one another and clamoring up the hill and racing to the road, all the while trying to keep their little tackle boxes and rods from getting loose (I couldn't see it, but I think one of them had to wind up his reel from the road because I could see the little bobber he had attached scurrying across the lawn).

Utterly hilarious. To me, at least. I'm afraid that I haven't done a very fair job to the humor of the story in this description. Slapstick often doesn't translate well to the written word.

But I hadn't seen what happened to the squirrel, and, as I said before, I've always wondered what would happen to one if it didn't make the jump. In the bustle the boys made, I lost track of it, so I endeavored to check. By the time I made it downstairs, the kids were all gone, so I ventured over to the spot near the creek to check the damage. The drop was probably about twenty feet, but I have no idea how fragile a squirrel body is and how well it can survive that kind of abuse (though, if these are masochistic squirrels, maybe they do it regularly and this was nothing but a lark on the squirrel's part, to shut up the boys that invaded his usually nice, peaceful yard), so I had no idea what I was going to find.

Turns out, it doesn't bother them all that much. I saw the squirrel about midway up the nearby tree (at least I assume it was him, it might have been an audience, I suppose), carefully examining me and the place I was standing, which was where the squirrel landed. Evidently, he either ran up one of the kid's legs and that was part of the reason for their anxiety or he made it to a nearby tree. Whatever he did, he wasn't dead.

So now I know the answer to two of the pressing questions in my life: Can squirrels survive a fall from way up in one of our trees? and How can I get the damn kids off my lawn without sounding like a cranky 70 year old? Pat's day equals Win!