Dear Squirrel Population:
Thanks ever so much for selflessly furnishing an abundance of oak tree volunteers which will, in the next decade or so and at no cost, replace the many mature trees in my yard that will inevitably fall, although I hope not on the garage while the kids or I are in the car. Might I offer a suggestion, however, to facilitate your future acorn-burying and retrieval protocol?
Next fall, when acorns are plop-plop-plopping to the ground and you're amassing and hiding them as if you were Jesse James stashing loot, why not make a mental note of where you're putting them? This way, you (or your relatives if you happen to be eaten by a hawk, but we won't discuss that) will be able to find them next spring and they won't be blooming into hundreds of tiny oaklets right next to my sidewalk or house foundations.
I know you must have a lot on your little squirrley minds right now, what with the kids clamoring that they're bored and there's nothing to eat in the nest, so I've come up with a tool that might help you keep track of your groceries.
Why not try a few of these:
Or, if you prefer a more graphic reminder, how about this:
I can provide Sharpies in any color you choose.
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Dear Moles:
I know your life is hard, what with digging underground all the time without knowing where you're going and having to eat ants and worms every day, but may I intrude on the execution of your labors with a friendly observation:
You see, Moles, Miss Puppy takes her profession very seriously, which I might have thought you'd have deduced after having spent an entire day bending over a hot stove preparing Worms Bolognese for guests who never arrived, since they'd been shaken senseless out in the yard and would never eat worms again.
My advice? Stay out of the yard.
If you need assistance finding your way to the other side of the fence, let me know and I'll bury a couple GPS devices in the garden. I can even mark them with Post-Its.
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Dear Ants:
We all know you gravitate to dark, sheltered places to raise your families, so as to avoid spiders and lizards and armadillos. And I understand you initially believed that setting up housekeeping inside the lid of my composter was a smashing idea. But after two weeks of daily scrambling to gather up kids, pets, Grandpa and XBox every time I open the lid to dump garbage, why haven't you realized that you made a mistake in selecting the composter as your summer home? Sometimes it's best to just cut your losses, relocate, and let the bank take over the property.
Just keep an eye out for the moles. They have GPS.
