There is an endless struggle for supremacy at our Park. I didn't start this war. I don't really fight it. But it is up to me to maintain supply lines and regulate troop movements. And I have no compunctions about taunting the opposing forces at appropriate times. The little red-headed dog has decided that all squirrels should be eradicated off the face of the earth, and my melancholy baby swears to me that she should be allowed to remove all birds from the confines of the Park. He gets to go out on raiding missions, while she is stuck at a desk job. Literally. She sits on the vintage wooden school desk I bought for my daughter (and have yet to deliver), and stares out the front window, telling me what a great job she would do killing birds and lizards. Today there was outrage over a squirrel hanging upside down on the front feeder. How dare they come eat the sunflower seeds that I intentionally put out there for them and the birds to share? Somehow, the huntress doesn't understand when she is being mocked, when I agree with her, "You could! You could totally kill that small animal! You even might not lose an eye."
The red-headed dog is much more insistent that he be allowed to patrol the Park. I have never met a dog with more dedication. No matter the weather--extreme heat, cold, or rain--he would rather be outside keeping us squirrel-free than inside in the climate control, on a soft bed. Even now, not ten minutes after I called him in from the cold, wet dark, he is standing at my elbow, suggesting that he should be out on patrol. I would think that he is being a little bit of an alarmist, but I do see the birdfeeders swinging wildly every time I close the door behind him. I sort of wish I could construct a widow's walk on the roof, so that he could keep the little tree rats from up there. I hear scurrying and thumping an awful lot. I feel like I should open up the attic access and check to see whether they have infiltrated yet. I hope not. The dog doesn't seem overly concerned with the ceiling upstairs, so I still have hope that my insulation remains unmolested.
I need to spend some time outside over the next few days, when the rain is gone. I suppose I should be kind to my littlest warriors, and let them have time out in the fresh air while I rake leaves. Not that the birds or squirrels tend to come into the Park when I'm out there. My presence is a little like having the Death Star circling over the War of the Roses. They just assume I'm trouble, and I don't have to do anything but hover.
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