Sneaking along quietly right by the feeder stream I heard the unmistakable scrabble of squirrel toenails on bark right close by. It was a large fox squirrel, one of the most beautiful orange ones I’ve ever seen, 2 feet above the ground and climbing up the side of a tree not 15 feet away. The sun was behind him shining through his hair and he had a bright orange halo all around him. He was casual to a fault, ran up the tree only about 10 feet and sat down on a flat stub of a limb pointing straight at me, not more than 12 feet from my gun barrel, on my side of the tree and in plain view. At the first sound I had shouldered the smoothbore and come to full cock, but he was far too close to shoot. I decided to wait until he climbed up the tree. He wasn’t playing that game. He began grooming himself as calmly as ever you please. He worked over the entire length of his tail, scratched or nibbled every hair on his body over the next 5 minutes, working rapidly and intently. I lowered my gun and stared, bemused. After a while I made a kissing sound. He stopped grooming, looked at me intently and resumed his primping. Fox squirrels just have a different attitude. I just watched, mesmerized by the beauty and behavior of the little creature. What an invention is the squirrel. After many minutes i started talking to him aloud, asking what he thought he was about and such. He finally seemed to pay me some attention, stopped grooming, ran part-way down the tree and stopped for another look, then bounced to the ground and made his way casually 50 yards up the stream, hopped onto a tree and disappeared. I had long since decided not to kill him. I have a real soft spot for fox squirrels, I have never had so much pleasure from a squirrel I didn’t kill.
