Occasionally I hear truly anguished dog yelps coming from the bottom of my yard. Surely any decent dog owner would go running to save her four-legged friend from some terrible fate. But, not me. I’ve heard those yelps before. They are the sound of frustration, not pain. One of those little buck-toothed devils is sitting on a branch, just above leaping-level, grinning and swearing at Apache. The squirrels almost give her apoplexy. And a walk in the woods brings no relief, as the forest is alive with the scurrying, chittering little beasts. Learn to live with them, Apache. Otherwise, they’ll drive you completely squirrely.
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