TOUGH BREAK, CAT!

“Cold, day,” I said.

Though I’d been blessed with a thick coat I never realized it could be this frigid. Still I was shivering a bit and I could feel the sting in my big ears and little black nose. I looked over casually, more of a glance than anything. I didn’t want to seem too obvious. The old squirrel seemed unaffected. His pals were playing across the yard, chasing one another across patios, over empty flower pots and through the trees.

“First winter, kid?” he said in his usual gruff street manor. True what mom would say as the eight of us suckled. Those days seemed so long ago. Truth of it was, it was barely four months since my tiny eyes first opened to mom’s beautiful face. Sometimes I can still smell the warm perfume of her thick fur. She would tell us that house pets shouldn’t mingle with outside animals. They live very different lives from us house folks, a tougher far more dangerous life. The fat squirrel beside me seemed a decent enough bloke, but I knew better than to get too involved with his lot. Still, there was something about this guy I found oddly appealing. Of course, if I put too much trust in yard critters the way I was falling for Smudge, I was in for trouble!

“When does it get warm again?” I asked.

“Ha! That’s cute. What, are you like two, three months…”

“Four and a half,” I corrected him quickly. “Four and one half whole months old. Heck, I’m closer to five, actually.”

“Good for you, Kid. This is my second inter.”

“Really?” I said, matter of fact, not wanting to sound like a sucker.

“Might not seem like much to you,” he mocked a bit, “with all your vast experience, but given the average lifespan for a squirrel is like two months I’m an old timer many times over. Ticker is still good. I don't run out in front of cars, I fatten up at the first sniff of cold weather and I have ample reserves buried all over this yard.”

“Happy for you,” I said, half wanting to chase him across the yard. Figured it would get me in trouble, besides, it was good to talk with someone, even if it was a tree tough like this lout.

“I like you, cat,” he said. He hopped onto the grass a few inches away and dug at the frozen earth. A moment later he pulled out a seed or dried berry or something. He promptly stuffed it in his cheek, then pulled another from the hole. He nearly pushed it into the other cheek, paused and held it out to me. “Where’s my manners? Hungry?”

“Carnivore, pal.” I replied. “Appreciate the offer, though.”

“More for me,” he said pressing it into his cheek. “High metabolism, and a body’s gotta eat. Like I was saying, mook, I like you. That’s why I hate to see you get all torn up over a dame.”

"Dame? No dame's gonna tie this cat down!" I asserted feebly.

"Got it bad, don't ya, kid?" scoffed the squirrel.

I glared at him and was about to shoot back something clever and sarcastic. Instead I only sighed and lowered my head, resting my chin on the cold hard ground.

"Bad? Yeah I suppose I do."

The squirrel hopped away, then turned and shook his head sympathetically. "Tough break, cat."