Is that the smell of danger or the scent of an acorn? Mr. Squirrel will either evade or discover as needed with paws typing on the branches as boustrophedon: to either side the senses carry until the tail may finally fall at ease. Oh, it is certainly not a vapid dance from limb to line as scurrying tickles even the barkiest pine. For Mr. Squirrel’s modus operandi is to prevent the season of snow from leaving him in a state of res angusta domi, the skilled terpsichorean will continue to thrive in the canopy stage with his groovy tree jive. ; )

Categories: Melange

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