Sitting at my desk in my writing cottage late yesterday afternoon I watched out the window as Mr. Squirrel climbed from the window box planter, up the birch branch I have as decoration, and scored some peanut butter I have smothered on a pine cone hanging from a nub of the branch. Which, ah-hem, Mr. Squirrel, is supposed to be for the birds.
The next time I looked up, there he was looking in the window at me. I glanced at the pine cone. It was empty. It didn’t take much to realize he had an important message for me:
Hey Lady! I need more peanut butter! Hurry!
This morning when I pulled up the blinds in my bedroom with a perfect view of my writing cottage there on the deck railing sat the empty pine cone.
Thanks Mr. Squirrel for going the extra mile to take the pine cone down for me to re-fill it.
I hear you loud and clear! But alas, you shall have to wait. I’m fresh out of peanut butter.
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