Long story short...The house Mr K and I own once belonged to the late pastor of my church and his wife. Most Sundays, Pastor Panther would regale us with tales of the invading hoard of squirrels in his neighborhood, complete with pictures.
Week after week, we heard about their thievery, disrespect and gluttony.
Everyone loved the stories.
Week after week, we heard about their thievery, disrespect and gluttony.
Everyone loved the stories.
Both Mr. K and I love to feed the birds. At one point, Mr. K said to me, the squirrels are fun to watch, let's feed them too.
That was a dumb suggestion. No need to feed the squirrels. They are so brazen, they probably come in the house when we are asleep and drink our wine and eat our cheese and crackers. Usually, Linda ignores them. Not so the other day...
She noticed a squirrel out on the patio. The squirrel was oblivious to the big dog looking out at him.
Suddenly, he looked up and came over to the French doors...
Linda started barking at him.
He decided to peep in the window to see what was making all the noise...
It was a stare down.
He put his little hands paws up on the window frame...
Linda barked again and turned and looked at me as though she was saying...
"Now do you believe Pastor Panther?"
She walked away...
And her little friend just kept looking for her...
I'm going to go and lock up the wine and cheese!
Love you!
Jan
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