Ellé Bell Café

Story time in the cafe!

I'm sitting outside with a mug of coffee, and it's February in SC. Mid fifties, crisp, damp. The squirrels have been foraging for acorns and nuts. About this time of year, pickings are slim. Diesel is protective of the yard, denying access to all trespassing squirrels. Over time this has turned into a game between the squirrels being bandits, and the mean old sheriff driving the mad gunmen outta his town!

It goes on all year round, but this time of year, its for survival.

The squirrel must slowly and stealthily creep into the lawn, careful not to move even a single fallen leaf, as its disturbance may indicate signs of an intruder and the sheriff is but only a few feet away.

Coffee and me are hanging out in the gardens watching this happen from the love seat. Diesel was sitting next to me. I had my coffee mug in one hand, and was giving doggie scratches with the other. Diesel was pretty oblivious to the squirrel, I had found "the best scratch spot" in doggie terms. No lie, this actually happened, coffee as my witness!!

Diesels butt scratching had him off guard and it wasn't until the intruding squirrel had gotten within a few feet of Diesel did he awaken from his daydreamy butt-scratching state to even notice the squirrel was just three feet away. They locked eyes instantaneously. So the squirrels face is saying, "Oh [email protected]!#!" and Diesel scrunches his face and does that clueless Scooby Doo "HUH!?"

Diesel leaps, it's almost like I am retelling this to you and in my mind he is running in slow motion but really it lasted all of a staggering 2.5 seconds. He ferociously leaps, the squirrel grabs the acorn and runs lightening speed to the closest fence top as quickly as his jiggling little thighs would take him. Diesel growls and barks at the squirrel saying, " Squirrel I don't want to have to tell you again. You got to stay out of here!" And the squirrel is holding his sagging little breast as his chest heaves. He is thanking whatever God squirrels worship meanwhile making sure he is in one piece.

"So you're seeing this with me, right?" I ask coffee.

"Yup, I am totally still here with you."

"Do you see the little squirrel is out of breath?"

"Yup"

"Okay"

So Diesel gets bored of the whole squirrel barking thing and comes back for more of the whole butt scratching thing. Diesel drifts off. Squirrel puts the nut in his mouth and walks from about the middle, to the very right back corner of the gardens, the length of the fence. He stops at the fence top and waves his tail, like a wild, flamenco dancer. Diesel is oblivious. The squirrel keeps waving his tail from the fence top and I can't tell if he likes the attention, or is just really into it.

The squirrel then climbs onto the light pole, scales to it's top and then finishes the dance with a naughty little spout off, I could hardly believe my ears. This squirrels swearing put our sailors to shame. Shame.

While the squirrel is waving his tail and screaming squirrel obscenities fifteen feet from the sheriff's face in his squeaky squirrel language, he is standing just above eye-level to the dog. As such, he is literally non-existent to the dog at this time.

He nods his fuzzy little head at me, an omen. Just like Babe Ruth before that famous hit. With a flick of his tail, the squirrel climbs the next pole to the phone lines that run above the yard, inside the fence, along the entire back length of the Cafe gardens. He steps on the wire and walks, no, more like 'dances' all the way, parading those little ham hocks in such a way... it made a grown woman wish she could squeeze them! He crosses the fence line, descales the pole, hops on the closest tree and heads back towards the yard to do it all over again...

#Coffeetime. I can dig it!