The Squirrel(s) who Ate Too Much - Conclusion

An Allegory in 2000 Chirrups

All characters in this story are fictional. Any resemblance to an alarmingly over-weight population of a stupendously consumption-driven society may not be purely coincidental. I’m talking about the Yosemite squirrels, of course. No really! :)

Click to read Part I first

Click to read Part II first

Click to read Part III first

Part 4: Darkness

Squirrel FAQs - Frequently Asked Questions
Q: Should I feed squirrels peanuts? (Source: www.squirrels.org)
A: Only if they are unsalted. Too much salt is not good for the squirrel, it increases their heart rate. This in turn, can contribute to an early death.

“Bushy-Brow?”

Bushy-Brow who’d been devouring the delicious pine-nut, oblivious to everything around him, nearly jumped out of his skin. “What? Who is it?” he snarled. “Its me. Wavy.” Said a small voice below him. It sounded a little scared. He turned and looked down to see Wavy-Tail peering up at the branch. “I’m sorry Bushy-Brow. But I heard you and Curly-Whiskers talking about a Pine-Nut Patch and decided to follow you. Where’s the Pine-Nut Patch Bushy-Brow? And why did those Long-Legs take Curly-Whiskers away?”

Bushy-Brow took a deep breath – he had to stay calm and follow the emergency plan that the Long-Legs had told him about.

“You shouldn’t have followed us Wavy.” He said in his best you’ve-been-a-naughty-squirret-but-I'm-still-willing-to-forgive-you voice. “You know squirrets especially are not allowed this side of the hill.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” Wailed Wavy. “Please don’t tell Ma. I only wanted to get a pine-nut for her.”

Bushy-Brow made his way down the trunk, carefully holding his pine-nut under his chin. “Hey.” He said kindly, plopping down softly beside the downcast squirret. “You made a mistake but its OK! Curly-Whiskers has gone with the Long-Legs to get the pine-nuts.” He nuzzled Wavy kindly. “Now don't look so disappointed. I’ll let you share a secret treat instead. But you have to help me dig, then."

“Anything!” said Wavy grateful that Bushy-Brow didn’t seem angry anymore. Bushy-Brow hurried over to a nearby tree and started digging with his paws. He moved over a bit to let Wavy in by his side. They both dug hard for about 5 minutes when Wavy felt a different texture under his paws. It was slippery and smooth – not hard and crumbly like dirt. Wavy had never seen anything like it. "OK, move over and let me pull it out”, said Bushy-Brow nudging him away, a little roughly. He caught hold of the plastic packet with his teeth and pulled it out. Wavy could see that there was something that looked like food inside the slippery cover. Bushy-Brow gnawed a large hole through the plastic and then shook it with his teeth until all its contents fell out.

“You’ll love it”, said Bushy-Brow “Its very rare, but it goes bad outside the covering very fast, so you have to eat it all right away. OK? Are you hungry?” “Yes. Yes!” Said Wavy, chasing his tail in excitement. “Ma has been allowing me to eat only 2 hazel-nuts a day. I’m very hungry!”. He pounced on the nuts and started gobbling them up.

“Yeah I’ve not been happy that she’s not doing her part to finish the daily food blessing.” Bushy-Brow said slowly "I’ve let it be for now since I know she’s grieving for Red. But there’s no reason to starve a youngster like you.”

“These are really tasty” said Wavy in delight in between chomps, not really listening. “What are they?”

“They’re called peanuts.” Said Bushy-Brow, looking at him unblinkingly. “These are special peanuts. They have something called salt rubbed on them that makes them taste even better. I'm glad you like them. Eat up then.”

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Curly-Whiskers crouched, scared to death, in the trap lying on its side in the back seat of the car. He could hear the two Long-Legs talking to each other. Then one of them brought the black case close to his mouth and said something to it. He heard the box start chirruping. He could understand the words but still couldn’t quite understand what had happened to him. “I’m telling you”, the box said, “Buying Bushy from that trapper and this Babel-Box were the two best investments we ever made.” The box stopped chirruping. The Long-Legs kept on talking to each other in their strange tongue.

“I agree, man. Its so much easier to train an animal with this thing.” Said Roger. “Pavlov would’ve loved it!”

“Yeah.”, said Fred. “We got ourselves a big guy today. These buggers seem to be really gorging themselves on the nuts and shit. Beats force-feeding those damn geese and ducks. These squirrels are great – they do all our work for us.”

“Yeah. I can’t do force-feeding man! That's cruelty man!” agreed Roger. “But who’d have thought squirrel liver pate would taste so good or get so pricey on the black-market after they banned foie gras!"

"Or" crowed his partner. "that we’d someday become the Squirrel Liver Moguls." "Dayhum! ", he said drawing out the word and savoring the feeling driving it, "Life is good.”

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A dark night had fallen over the hills of Yosemite. Pine-Eyes scampered into the Food Patch trying her best to control the panic that she could feel rising in her stomach. She hadn’t seen Wavy for hours now. He was usually back by moon-rise. Well the moon hadn't risen but that was only because today was its Day-of-Rest.

The Patch was its usual noisy self, squirrels everywhere, over-eating, chirruping nineteen-to-the-dozen and resting after having over-eaten. Only Bushy-Brow was being relatively industrious, intently clearing the brush from the edges of the Patch.

She couldn’t see Wavy amongst the throng gorging themselves at the Patch. She'd been hoping he had defied her and gone to the Patch to eat anyway. But he wasn't there. Where was he?!

“Has anyone seen Wavy?”, she called out, trying to keep the nervous squeak out of her voice. “He went out to play and hasn’t come back yet.”

Barely anyone looked up from their dinner.

Concluded

The Squirrel(s) Who Ate Too Much - Part III

An allegory in 2000 chirrups
All characters in this story are fictional. However any resemblance to an alarmingly over-weight population of a stupendously consumption-driven society may not be completely coincidental. (I’m talking about the Yosemite squirrels, of course. No, really! :)

Click to Read Part I first

Click to Read Part II first

Part 3: Twilight

Wavy was climbing carefully down the hazel tree, a large hazel-nut tucked under his chin. “Ma is going to get such a surprise.”, he said to himself, “She’ll think there’s hope for me yet.” He was about half-way down the trunk when he heard chirruping. It was Bushy-Brow with fat old Curly-Whiskers. Curly-Whiskers had been one of Red’s closest friends. They were hurrying down the small path that led over the top of the hill. Wavy had never been there before. It had never been considered very safe for squirrets because you could run into a lot of Long-Legs there. And then, when the eagle attacks started, Bushy-Brow had decided that it was best if no one – squirrels or squirrets – went there...because the Pine-Mother alone knew what other dangers lay there. So no one did, anymore.

“I’m telling you I have the same feeling that I had the day I found the Food Patch.”, Bushy-Brow was saying as he scurried up the hill, a few scampers ahead of Curly-Whiskers. This time, I think the Pine-Mother wants to lead me to a Pine-Nut Patch. I can just feel it in my bones.”

Curly-Whiskers scurried as fast as he could, trying to keep up with his much fitter leader, but already feeling a little winded. He could hear his sacred-drum in his ears already. But he couldn’t help feel excited. It would be wonderful to taste pine-nuts after so many years! And Bushy-Brow had chosen him, and him alone, to share in the glory that would follow from the discovery. “No one else can know”, he had said, “because I don’t want to raise squirrels' hopes and have them belied.”

“Is it over the hill?” he asked Bushy-Brow between breaths, hoping that the answer would be a no. “Yes. I think so. Hurry!”.

Wavy’s ears pricked up. A Pine-nut Patch! Maybe he could get one for Ma! She would LOVE that. He dropped his hazel-nut (he was sick of eating them everyday, anyway) and started following the other two squirrels at a distance. If they saw they him, they’d surely send him back to Ma. The two adult squrrels had already disappeared over the top of the hill. Lost in imagining Pine-Eyes’ delight as he hurried after them, he wasn’t prepared for the strange sight that greeted him as he crested the hill, huffing and puffing.

About 30 glides down the other side, he saw Bushy-Brow sitting on a branch on his haunches, barely 10 scampers away from two Long-Legs! What was he doing? He seemed to be chirruping at one of the Long-Legs. One Long-Leg held a wooden box from which he could hear more chirruping - that sounded like Curly-Whiskers. Was he inside the box? The other Long-Leg held a small black case in front of Bushy Brow and when Bushy-Brow stopped speaking, the man brought the case back to himself, holding it close to his ears. Wavy heard strange sounds coming out of the case. The man moved the case near his mouth and made some strange sounds himself. He then held the case close to Bushy-Brow and wonder of wonders, Wavy-Tail heard chirrups coming out of it.“You're doing a heckuva job, Bushy.” He heard the case say. “We’ll see you again after eight suns this time. Here’s your reward” The Long-Leg held out a pine-nut to Bushy-Brow who quickly snatched it from his hand. “Thank you Master. Thank you!” He said in an uncharacteristically servile voice. “I won’t fail you.”

The two Long-Legs turned and walked away.

Click to read concluding Part IV

The Squirrel(s) who Ate Too Much - Part II

An allegory in 2000 chirrups
All characters in this story are fictional. However any resemblance to an alarmingly over-weight population of a stupendously consumption-driven society may not be completely coincidental. (I’m talking about the Yosemite squirrels, of course. No, really! :)

Click to Read Part I first

Part 2: Afternoon

Pine-Eyes was resting in the shade of a buck brush near the edge of Vernal Falls. Her legs ached from all the climbing she’d had to do. She buried her nose in her lush tail and closed her eyes for a well-deserved siesta. “Ma. Can I go play with the other squirrets now?” Uncurling herself, she saw Wavy-Tail sitting on his hind-legs, looking hopefully at her, his whiskers twitching in nervous anticipation. She usually made him sleep in the afternoon – he was still very young. But “OK you can go play today. But no jump-gliding while I’m not there. Its too dangerous.” Wavy-Tail ambled off happily. While she was happy that he'd largely gotten over Red's death, she also felt a little hurt that he'd done it relatively easily. But then he hadn’t known Red for very long – unlike his many older brothers and sisters. He was her baby. Her last one – She’d always known she couldn’t be with anyone but Red.

Dolefully, she tucked her nose back into her curled up tail. How had everything changed so much? It wasn’t just that she’d lost her love of many, many years. The changes had started several years back – around the time that Bushy-Brow had appeared. What was it…six winters back? That had been a tough year. That was the first year that the pine trees stopped bearing nuts and started dying. The older squirrels said it was because the weather was changing. Bushy-Brow had wandered into a Squirrel Council Meeting one day – said he was from Great Yosemite Falls and was looking for a change. He had an air of arrogance about him that turned many squirrels off – but the Vernal Falls tribe were nothing, if not hospitable.

He seemed to spend little time foraging for nuts, whiling away many mornings Tail-Sledding with the older squirrets seeing who could get to the bottom of the mound fastest. He’d disappear towards evening into the deep woods – finally to forage one assumed – and seemed to be lucky enough to never have to ask another squirrel for hard-gathered food. He was like any other squirrel; if a little more irresponsible…and seemingly lucky…than most.

But then 2 full moons after he came, he turned into a hero overnight. That was the night he ended everyone’s food worries for all time…he discovered the Food Patch…the small clearing about halfway up the hill from Vernal Falls where a small smorgasbord used to appear mysteriously everyday. All the types of squirrel foods you could think of - hazelnuts, mushrooms, even some delicious peanuts though none seemed to go grow in the Yosemite valley. There were no pine-nuts but who was complaining. It had been a wonderful meal. Everyone had eaten for two that night. And the next day, the Patch was again full of food. Everyday the heaps of nuts and mushrooms was replenished and soon everyone gave up the daily gathering of food. They’d laze about or play all day and just go to the Patch evening and feast to their heart’s content…eating much more than any squirrel could have needed.

Bushy-Brow said he’d been led to it by instinct, but believed that the Pine Mother herself had guided him to it. He also said no one should go near the Patch except after the sun had set otherwise the food wouldn’t appear. He claimed it was their sacred duty to finish all that appeared in the Food Patch...that if they didn’t, the Mother might get offended and stop providing for them. And of course they did…even though everyday the food was more than enough to feed all of them and then again by half. They also made him a de facto leader, acknowledged as such by the Squirrel Council. Then the strange eagle attacks had started. They’d heard of eagle attacks over in Nevada Falls but Vernal Falls had always been a safe place to live. They weren’t really attacks, at least not that anyone had seen, but squirrels started disappearing every so often. Now it had gotten so bad that one squirrel was disappearing every 5-10 suns or so. Everyone was scared…no one had seen an eagle but what else could it be? Bushy-Brow had rallied the troops, so to chirrup, when the attacks first began. It had to be eagles and Squirrels had to stick together, he’d said, if they were to be safe and survive. The old ways of relatively solitary, independent living didn’t work anymore – there had to be more rules about where squirrels should roam, what they should do and when; they had to have a night patrol to keep them safe and so on. The Squirrel Council had been grateful for his leadership and adopted most of his suggestions. These were scary times but at least they had the Food Patch to keep them fed and the Night Patrolers to warn them of danger.

Pine-Eyes had grown to like Bushy-Brow like most other squirrels. Except maybe the way he’d insist on spending hours everyday clearing the area around the Patch of twigs and dry grass. She found that a little weird. Its not as if he used them to build a large nest to impress a maiden squirrel with. No, he just cleared the brush. Obsessively. There was that time that Droopy-LeftEar had come running to him in tears to say she’d looked everywhere and couldn’t find her twin Droopy-RightEar anywhere. He’d asked her to rest on her haunches and give him five minutes to finish the day’s clearing.

For the most part though, Pine-Eyes (and Red) had felt grateful that Bushy-Brow had appeared just when the trying times started. But today, lying in the shade of the buck brush, she couldn’t help but wish that they could go back to the old days when there was no Bushy-Brow. Because then there were also no eagle attacks, hardly any rules, the Pine-Mother’s bounty came in the form of pine-nuts and not the Food Patch. And then, by her side, there was Red.

Click to read Part III

Part IV to follow

The Squirrel(s) who Ate Too Much - Part I

An Allegory in 2000 Chirrups
All characters in this story are fictional. However any resemblance to an alarmingly over-weight population of a stupendously consumption-driven society may not be completely coincidental. (I’m talking about the Yosemite squirrels, of course. Who did you think I was referring to :)

Part 1 : Morning

“Wavy-Tail don’t go so near the edge.” Scolded his mother, “Come back here and forage with me. Dinner doesn’t grow on trees you know.” Then corrected herself, “Well actually it does. But that doesn’t mean you don’t have to work to get it. You have to gather your share of nuts.”

“Oh Ma. Can’t I go Tail-Sledding down Riverside Mount. Long-Whiskers and White-Stripe are going. Its not fair.” Wavy wailed. Pine-Eyes wasn’t impressed. “Well let them go. They can go eat at the Patch tonight, but we’re not going to. If you want dinner tonight, you come back here and gather it, young squirret.” She watched her son scamper back slowly, wavy tail drooping rather non-eponymously. He started clambering laboriously, up the trunk of another hazel tree near hers. Her heart leapt into her mouth for a second as he seemed to slip a couple of feet, then dug his claws into the bark and held on before starting to climb again. He really needed to lose weight, and quickly. Just like his mother did. And his father had needed to.

She looked away, offered a silent prayer to the Pine Mother and gingerly started making her way towards the delicious looking nut that lay at the end of the branch. There was a time, before she, and really every other squirrel in Yosemite's Vernal Falls got fat, when she would have scampered towards the nut blithely; light of feet, tail billowing behind her, cool breeze caressing the fine down on her back. She and Just-Red would sometimes race each other to a nut; she beat him to it more times than not...Red often let her win, especially if it was a pine-nut. They both loved pine-nuts. And then at dusk they’d sit together, their shared body warmth helping to keep the Yosemite chill out, and he’d lovingly nip her ears while she nibbled on the nut.

Red! Red, with the rust red tail he was so proud of. Red, the only squirrel in all of Vernal Falls, without a hyphenated name. Red, who defied all demands by the Squirrel Council to add a noun to his name as per ancient custom…and who said that if they really wanted to hyphenate his name they should call him Just-Red. He knew that choosing an adjective would annoy them even more. Or was it an adverb, she was bad at this! Her beloved Red who’d become so fond of eating, so enamored of the sumptuous delights of the Food Patch that it had eventually led to his death. Only a few full moons back. The sound of his fat body thudding sickeningly into the ground still haunted Pine-Eyes. It was the sound of the world coming crashing down around her. He had attempted to make a flying leap from one high branch to another and had fallen short by several spans…having badly misjudged how, the weight he’d put on recently and his general sluggishness, had affected his Jump-Gliding skills. His beloved tail had been unable to parachute his weight down safely. That’s when Pine-Eyes decided that she and Wavy had to stop eating at the Food Patch. There had been too much eating and too little exercise.

Even after so many moons, the mere thought of Red made Pine-Eyes’ whiskers droop with the terrible weight of her sorrow. She willed them up again with an effort that sent a quiver down her back. Wavy had been hard hit by Red's death and had only recently started coming out of his shell. She couldn't let Wavy see her looking sad again. If only she had lachrymal glands so she could let all her emotions out in one big flood of tears. As she'd sometimes seen lonely Long-Leg hikers do, in the forest, when they thought no one was watching. Perhaps then the sadness would stop gnawing at her – trying to get back into center-stage in her mind from the corner that she had banished it to. She missed Red so!

Click to read Part II

Click to read Part III