Tuesday, September 05, 2006

Fur worth fighting for.

A hawk almost hit my head while I was walking from my car to the train the other week. Luckily, it wasn’t my fleshy skull he was hoping to feast on. That honor belonged to a little grey squirrel up ahead running for its life.

To me, squirrels are like tree-climbing puppies. Beings of such utter cuteness should not be consumed, especially right in front of me. With a burst of rare man-like bravery, I stomped towards the scene. Startled, the hawk missed his target and flew over to a fence a few feet away. We stared each other down, and my courage quickly began to fade as I pictured the predator darting at me to peck out the very eyes i used to glare at him with. But I pushed my inner pansy down and stood firm while the squirrel ducked behind the nearest tree trunk. Eventually, thinking me too tough to tangle with, the hawk flew off into the woods.

As I stood there making sure the predator didn’t return, three other squirrels emerged from their hiding spaces under the surrounding cars and bushes. I felt like such a hero - a champion for the whole squirrel community. I believe that had those rodents possessed the intelligence and opposable thumbs to do so, they would have forged me a medal of honor, most likely out of tree bark and nuts. But even without a squirrel-crafted badge of courage, all the honor I need is the knowledge that an adorable wildlife creature still lives because of me.