I let Pistachio out to go run around after his early afternoon nap. As I opened the door and he took off down his usual path—curving toward the right as he shot out of the back door to race between the propane tank and clothesline, then side-stepping the tree and making a dash for the northern border of the property (where all the squirrels congregate)—I saw something moving in the grass. Too late, I realized that an errant squirrel was on the ground.
Danger, danger, Will Robinson!
The squirrel was on the far side of the propane tank, making a beeline for his brethren to the north. When Pistachio passed the propane tank and was about to sidestep the tree, he noticed the squirrel running in tandem, just a few yards from him.
I’m pretty sure that, at this point, Pistachio cried out, “Wheeeee! A friend to play with me!”
Without slowing, both four-leggeds changed direction to run behind the propane tank (where I couldn’t see them). A second later, the squirrel zoomed toward another tree, Pistachio breathing down his neck. I was sure the squirrel was a goner.
Did you know that squirrels can jump? I am talking JUMP!!! That squirrel jumped at the tree from at least five feet away—and somehow managed to attach himself to the trunk and scamper up to the lowest branch before Pistachio caught him. He then turned around to yell at Pistachio just as the dog splatted himself against the tree trunk.
Okay, yes, I admit it. I giggled. My dog is clearly part cartoon character.
The squirrel continued chattering away, yelling down at Pistachio so loudly that my ears hurt. Pistachio danced around the tree on his hind legs, serenading the squirrel in an attempt to woo him out of the tree. After a few moments, I called to Pistachio and he raced over to tell me one thing: “Best. Game. EVER!” He then ran north to find more squirrels.
Mr. Squirrel continued to read me the riot act. Clearly not everyone enjoyed the game as much as my furrball.