Many of you (well, approximately three of you) know the story of Henry the Squirrel with No Tail. I am here to report that Henry is alive and well, fattening up for the winter. The portrait above of Our Favorite Squirrel was taken today as fallen leaves swirled around in unseasonably warm November breezes, which means it’ll probably snow tomorrow. This is Northeast Ohio, after all.
At this point, if our various wikis and squirrel expert websites are to be trusted, Henry has apparently beaten the odds in terms of squirrel survival. I first spotted Henry in early 2009. I have no way of knowing how old he was at that point, but he was (I guess) fully grown already and had learned to hop around without the balancing aid of a tail.
Most squirrels reportedly don’t make it past one year, largely because of their inability to avoid automobiles. Their little squirrel brains seem to get confused at the sight of an object 2,000 times their weight bearing down on them.
Faithful readers of this blog, whether by choice or not, recall a recent post in which Henry very nearly went to Squirrel Heaven (house band: Squirrel Nut Zippers, natch) when a rather large raptor (the bird, not the dinosaur played with great effect in the Jurassic Park movies) nearly snatched him out of the yard next door.
I think Henry learned his lesson: Trust no one. Complacency will get you dead. He seemed a tad more wary toward this camera-toting fool today than in previous visits. Maybe it was the clicking sound the shutter/mirror makes as it snaps the photo, which is not terribly unlike a gun being cocked. Anyway, Henry Lives!