I brake for squirrels
Watch out if you're driving behind me. I brake for squirrels. It's an every morning ordeal dodging the squirrels as they try to commit suicide beneath the wheels of my car.
From six a.m. until about ten a.m. the little beggars are trying to round up their breakfast and pay no attention to giant vehicles loaded with folks on the way to work. After ten, the morning massacre is usually over until late in the evening. I try never to run one over. But at home in the pecan and pear trees . . . it's war!
At home, they are not squirrels they are "tree rats." They are not cute and fluffy, they are vermin. Tree rats love to sit in the top of the pear trees and cut the tiny baby pears off--just for fun. You can hear them hitting the top of the upside down cattle waterer . . . plink, plunk, oh no, they're at it again!
A full grown tree rat can tote off 65 pounds of pecans a year according to Mr. Boyette, owner and operator of Boyette's Pecans. Our current tree rat herd numbers in the hundreds. Maybe that's why I only got $67.50 last year for six trees worth of pecans. They have been known to sit high in the pecan trees and throw nuts at the stupid humans walking around on the ground.
We fight the tree rats at my house. When the sound of plunking pears or pecans wafts into the house on the soft summer breeze, the master of the home mobilizes, grabs the shotgun and stealthily creeps into the pecan field. The sound of the shotgun brings the yellow cur dog, Tinkerbell, running. She knows there's a treat in store for her.
But watch out for me on the way to work. I brake for squirrels.