The fence enclosing the association swimming pool area runs along the sidewalk in front of my townhouse. This morning, as I was starting my usual Saturday walk to the library, I noticed a squirrel walking along the top rails of the fence.
I made a quiet clucking noise. The squirrel, a young female, stopped short and looked back at me. I clucked again. The squirrel turned about and walked back along the fence until she was a foot away from my face, looking at me eye to eye. She was a lovely creature, sleek with her winter fat. Her grooming needed a bit of attention, however. A small black seed was caught in the fine hairs at the front of her cheek. I pretended not to notice.
From the inquisitive look in her soft brown eyes, I concluded that she had interpreted the clucking as a squirrel come-hither signal and then assumed that a prospective suitor was hidden somewhere on my person, under my jacket perhaps or beneath my brown fedora.
Feeling like a cad for having trifled with her affections, I left her and went on my way.
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