I'm a fickle lady of fleeting allegiances. I very much enjoyed watching baby squirrels chase each other in spirals around the tree, but then we upgraded to stray cats and guess who I don't give a damn for anymore. And guess who's in pieces on the driveway. I will be finding feet for weeks.
Logan and I, in the kitchen, had just sarcastically wished that chipmunk good luck against the cat, barely turned our backs, when there was a whirling blur of gray and white and the chipmunk was no longer four feet up on the tree but being carried away still kicking in a cat's mouth. Holy shit??!! We might name her Chuck Norris.
She fed it to her babies. They split it in the breakfast zone on the driveway. ..."split." Yeah. Gross. Better than tv.
