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Guest Post by a Ghost Squirrel

27 Mar

Kids these days are so ungrateful.

So I, the honorable, tortured ghost of Gary Capusquirrel, appeared before a certain juvenile human female named Allegra, who happens to live near the feuding grounds of we the Capusquirrels and the vile Montacrows, this afternoon after she returned to her dwelling place after hours of absence. She was not impressed by the fact that in my death I had gained the power of speech. She was not disgusted by my gruesome visage. She was not awed at the resurrection of my squirrel-ly soul. She did not tremble before me. All she said was this:

“Oh good, someone who’s not busy. Can you post to my blog for me today? Here’s the password.”

So here I am, typing away at this laptop with my ghostly paws, as Allegra sits nearby translating a lengthy piece of French. She is, in fact, ignoring me completely–she’s blasting some ruckus she considers music in her ears. She did not deem to inform me about the nature of this blog, and I will not waste my time surveying the previous entries. Therefore I am going to relate a tale of woe and misery: the tale of the long duel with Ella Montacrow that resulted in my death.

The Capusquirrels and the Montacrows have been engaged for countless years in a battle for control of the bird feeder. The humans of Allegra’s clan often supply the peasant songbirds with food during the winter without a thought towards those of us of more noble blood. The Capusquirrels and the Montacrows vie day after day for complete dominion over the feeding area. There has been no friendly discourse between the two families since that shameful week two years ago when one of our young women fell in love–despite species boundaries–with a dashing Montacrow. The shunned pair committed double suicide by stepping into the road together.

But I digress. Ella Montacrow and I have had a special rivalry since our youth. The Montacrows led by Ella had taken complete control of the suet hanger, a favorable asset to the main feeding area. Seeing that Montacrow dame cawing on about her victory set my teeth on edge. I felt the driving need to sabotage the suet hanger and stop her gloating.

I observed that daily, at the hour of 6:09 PM, the human patriarch steers an immense vehicle by our feuding grounds. I have witnessed many a stick get crushed into bits under the juggernaut’s tires. I so designed a plan to destroy the suet hanger. When all of the Montacrows on guard were all the way across the yard, otherwise occupied, I dashed to the suet hanger and removed it from its branch with outstanding agility, if I do say so myself. As my fellow Capusquirrels cheered, I dragged the suet hanger into the driveway, left it in a strategic position in the typical path of the humans’ vehicle, and dashed back to the Capusquirrel tree.

Before long, the vehicle came along and crushed the doomed suet hanger beneath its wheels. The Montacrows, sensing something was amiss, flew back to our land of feud, cawing at such volumes as I have never before heard in my life or death. Ella Montacrow, seeing her precious suet hanger destroyed on the ground, cried that she would have revenge on the perpetrator. Montacrow had never before gone back on her word. I trembled.

I suspect that Montacrow, determined to find the correct one of us to punish, bribed the peasant songbirds to report on our activities. She soon discovered that it was indeed I who had arranged the death of the suet hanger.     From my conjecture, she rallied her fellows about her and me ambushed while I was away from my kin. The Montacrows, led by Ella herself, swept up in a vengeful fury, forced me to run away from our feuding grounds and towards the road. O, road, that dreaded site of so many deaths, belonging to both rival families! The Montacrow dame swooped down as I raced toward the road and forced me to either leap on to the pavement or be speared upon her beak and claws.

As my chance of survival was greater, I chose to enter the road. Alas, the stars were against me, for I was struck with an almighty force and was aware of a last horrible second of crushing pain. When my consciousness aroused again, I was weightless: I looked down upon my ruined body. My fellow Capusquirrels mourned my death as the triumphant Montacrows stood by.

Disgusted by our petty mortal debates, I decided to wander in my new-found state. I first visited the humans’ home and rested for a while in Allegra’s room. The story from there has already been told.

Ah. Allegra has just informed me that nearly 800 words is quite sufficient for a standard blog post. I shall now bid you all adieu. I’m off to my next adventure.

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7 responses to “Guest Post by a Ghost Squirrel

  1. UnrestrainedFancy

    March 28, 2012 at 2:54 PM

    Funny stuff! 🙂

     
    • Allegra Davis

      March 28, 2012 at 4:25 PM

      Gary Capusquirrel says: ” I feel some level of offense that my gruesome death could be viewed as amusing.”
      I say: “Thank you!”

       
  2. Miriam Joy

    March 28, 2012 at 3:18 PM

    Can the squirrel guest-post for me, too? I know the feeling of time being eaten!

     
    • Allegra Davis

      March 28, 2012 at 4:26 PM

      I’m sure Gary would be able to fit another guest post into his afterlife schedule. 🙂

       
  3. Liam, Head Phil

    March 28, 2012 at 4:40 PM

    Montagues and Capulets… what is this, Crowmeo and Squirrelet? Funny, all the same.

     

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