was a ginkgo. I joined him,and the two of us licked our swollen paws to comfort them. Of course, there are cement walks throughout the park, but no squirrel remains very long on the hard, rough ground when there is soft, cool earth nearby.
As we sat on an upper branch of the tree, we observed the nature of the day constantly changing. First a few and then more and more people and cars passed by us. Just like in the park, there were equal numbers of people going in either direction, all of them very focused on wherever they were headed. They didn’t take any time to stop and look around. Humans are very strange.
Fortunately, humans are also hungry. It wasn’t long before there were dropped bits of bagels and doughnuts in the trash can near the base of the tree. I jumped down andforaged for a good snack. Some pigeons flew overhead, waiting till we’d dropped some crumbs on the ground for them. So I obliged and broke off a bit of doughnut. Instantly a dozen more pigeons appeared out of nowhere.
“Don’t,” cautioned Lenox. “We don’t want to make a spectacle of ourselves.”
But no one stopped to watch. Pigeons and squirrels seemed invisible to the humans on the street.
After eating, Lenox and I decided it was time to digest our meal. So we each picked a crook of the tree and took a snooze. So far, our adventure had been pretty tame, and I was thankful for that. I didn’t know that things were going to change very shortly.
CHAPTER FIVE
A Hole in the Ground
After a short rest, I decided we should continue. “Are you ready to go on?” I asked Lenox.
He opened his eyes, scratched himself, and nodded. “Of course,” he said. “I was waiting for you.”
We jumped down and continued east. The day was changing. Instead of warming up, as days usually do, a brisk wind wasblowing. The sky had started to grow darker, and it became evident that it was going to rain before long. Squirrels never mind rain. The water disposes of fleas and fills puddles for us to drink from. And when we’ve had enough rain, we give ourselves a good shake to dry our fur and then cuddle up in a tree hole. But here, outside the park, the trees were too small and young to have deep, protective holes. I didn’t look forward to rain the way I would have inside the park.
Sure enough, before we had gone very far, the rain began to fall. All around us, humans opened their rain protectors, held them over their heads, and walked faster than ever. Lenox and I had to watch out for their feet. Twice I just missed being kicked by a hurrying human.
“The rain is wetter here than in the park,” Lenox complained to me.
“Rain is rain,” I replied. “It’s all the same everywhere.”
“No, no,” he insisted. “It will be better on Lexington Avenue. It will be less wet and less cold there.”
I didn’t see how Lexington Avenue could possibly live up to my cousin’s expectations.
We reached the next street, which I knew was Park Avenue. I had always assumed that the name meant it was really another park. My bird friends who have flown all over the city have told me that there are more than 1,700 parks in New York, which cover more than 28,000 acres. Well, if this counted as one of those parks, what a joke! There was abit of grass in the middle of the street, but no trees, no benches, no bushes—nothing. What a ridiculous park this is, I thought as the rain continued to drip off my fur. Nevertheless, I automatically found myself sniffing and digging a hole. There could be a nut buried in the soil, I thought. I found nothing. After a second unsuccessful try, I realized it was useless. There were no other squirrels around to have buried anything for us to find.
“Come on, come on,” nagged Lenox.
And so we went on again, crossing onto the cement.
Just when we were both as wet as we’d ever been in our lives, we noticed great numbers of humans heading toward a gigantic hole in the ground.
We both paused for a moment and then did what
As we sat on an upper branch of the tree, we observed the nature of the day constantly changing. First a few and then more and more people and cars passed by us. Just like in the park, there were equal numbers of people going in either direction, all of them very focused on wherever they were headed. They didn’t take any time to stop and look around. Humans are very strange.
Fortunately, humans are also hungry. It wasn’t long before there were dropped bits of bagels and doughnuts in the trash can near the base of the tree. I jumped down andforaged for a good snack. Some pigeons flew overhead, waiting till we’d dropped some crumbs on the ground for them. So I obliged and broke off a bit of doughnut. Instantly a dozen more pigeons appeared out of nowhere.
“Don’t,” cautioned Lenox. “We don’t want to make a spectacle of ourselves.”
But no one stopped to watch. Pigeons and squirrels seemed invisible to the humans on the street.
After eating, Lenox and I decided it was time to digest our meal. So we each picked a crook of the tree and took a snooze. So far, our adventure had been pretty tame, and I was thankful for that. I didn’t know that things were going to change very shortly.
CHAPTER FIVE
A Hole in the Ground
After a short rest, I decided we should continue. “Are you ready to go on?” I asked Lenox.
He opened his eyes, scratched himself, and nodded. “Of course,” he said. “I was waiting for you.”
We jumped down and continued east. The day was changing. Instead of warming up, as days usually do, a brisk wind wasblowing. The sky had started to grow darker, and it became evident that it was going to rain before long. Squirrels never mind rain. The water disposes of fleas and fills puddles for us to drink from. And when we’ve had enough rain, we give ourselves a good shake to dry our fur and then cuddle up in a tree hole. But here, outside the park, the trees were too small and young to have deep, protective holes. I didn’t look forward to rain the way I would have inside the park.
Sure enough, before we had gone very far, the rain began to fall. All around us, humans opened their rain protectors, held them over their heads, and walked faster than ever. Lenox and I had to watch out for their feet. Twice I just missed being kicked by a hurrying human.
“The rain is wetter here than in the park,” Lenox complained to me.
“Rain is rain,” I replied. “It’s all the same everywhere.”
“No, no,” he insisted. “It will be better on Lexington Avenue. It will be less wet and less cold there.”
I didn’t see how Lexington Avenue could possibly live up to my cousin’s expectations.
We reached the next street, which I knew was Park Avenue. I had always assumed that the name meant it was really another park. My bird friends who have flown all over the city have told me that there are more than 1,700 parks in New York, which cover more than 28,000 acres. Well, if this counted as one of those parks, what a joke! There was abit of grass in the middle of the street, but no trees, no benches, no bushes—nothing. What a ridiculous park this is, I thought as the rain continued to drip off my fur. Nevertheless, I automatically found myself sniffing and digging a hole. There could be a nut buried in the soil, I thought. I found nothing. After a second unsuccessful try, I realized it was useless. There were no other squirrels around to have buried anything for us to find.
“Come on, come on,” nagged Lenox.
And so we went on again, crossing onto the cement.
Just when we were both as wet as we’d ever been in our lives, we noticed great numbers of humans heading toward a gigantic hole in the ground.
We both paused for a moment and then did what
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