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Carlos

Carlos is the squirrel in our yard that greets me when I come outside.  Carlos is not as timid as the other squirrels. He’s a bit more bold when he thinks there’s food in it for him.  Usually he hangs back in a nearby tree watching me wander the yard. Once he hear the rattling of the birdseed, he knows his worries are over.  

I really should stop calling it birdseed.  Carlos and his family of squirrels eat more of it than the birds do.  I know I could invest in those Rube Goldberg devices that send squirrels flying off the feeder, but I have a feeling that Carlos is an adrenaline junkie and he would only come back for more.  Plus, I feel like Carlos and I have bonded over the years. I walk outside, he watches me. We have a very comfortable relationship.

I have a little miniature chair that is mounted to a tree that holds a cob of corn on it.  Carlos scurries down the tree, sits on the chair by straddling the cob and proceeds to fill his belly.  Meanwhile, I sit on the patio in my chair with my burger and corn on the cob and watch him eat his corn on the cob.  

Comfortable.