A Visit with Tony the Squirrel

This afternoon, I stepped outside to find Tony the Squirrel sitting at the end of our front walkway. He froze, then hopped to greet me—one cautious bounce closer to me at a time. It took a minute or two. I didn’t move, only whispered. “Hello, Tony. Happy New Year. Thanks for coming to visit. That’s it. Keep coming. I’m safe.”

This time of year, Tony, an Eastern Gray Squirrel, is a Squishmallow in the making, light gray with patches of reddish brown on his back, the top of his head, and the tips of his paws. His eyes are ever-imploring black beads. The last time I saw him, he hopped up on a rock in front of our house as my family pulled up in our car. He stood and waited to greet us as we made our way into the house. He’s the kind of neighbor who takes the time to say, “Hello.”

Today, he hopped right up to my feet. I realized he could bite if he wanted and imagined him suddenly latching onto my leg. But I wasn’t afraid. Tony’s been around long enough to prove himself, long enough to earn a name known by all the neighbors. He peered an inquisition, looking at my face, then to my hands. He tapped to the right, to the left. Tilted his head. Chattered softly. I told him I had no food—just an empty Walmart grocery bag. After all, I wasn’t expecting him. Tony seemed to accept this truth, turned, and hopped back the way he came, finally disappearing under the bridge at the walkway’s end.

Come visit again, Tony.

Photo by Janet, taken on an earlier visit from our friend

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