I'll skip the long-ish backstory that led up to DG going with me today, but I will say that because I had to wait on him, we didn't leave the house for two and a half hours later than I wanted. But I'll digress and get straight to the story.
I had a couple things to do today and mistakenly asked if he wanted to go along to get some fabric for the new sofa. Burlap or something to put under the cushions, over the springs. He said he did and that's how we ended up on the other side of town. To get home from that part of town, we have to turn down a one-way street. And if you live in any kind of town, you know how some squirrels seem suicidal. They'll dart out in front of oncoming vehicles only to dart back or they'll wait till the last moment and dash across the street.
We had one do just that as we turned onto the one-way street. I was going slow enough that if I had to stop, I could have. But Mister Squirrel ran, diagonally, across the street and dashed up a tree on the side of the road. He stopped halfway up the tree and glared at us in that squirrelly way. You know the look. The one that says, "HA! I did it! You stupid humans! You'll rue the day you tried to run me down when we take over the world! But I've said too much! Look, I'll twitch my nose and you'll forget what I just said!"
Yeah. That look.
When he darted out in front of us, we both said the same thing: "Wow! Look at that fat squirrel!" And he was quite portly. He probably needed the exercise of running across the street.
DG: "He ate another squirrel. That's how he got so fat."
Me: "Why is everything fat that way because they ate another one of their kind? I'm fat and I haven't eaten another human."
DG: "Animals are different!"
Me: "So the squirrel in the tree outside our house that only has a stub of a tail- he got that way because another squirrel tried to eat him and he got away?"
DG: "Yeah, this squirrel went over there and tried to eat him."
Me: "Why would a squirrel go all the way across town to eat another squirrel when there are plenty of squirrels in their own neighborhood."
DG: "I don't have any idea. I'm not a squirrel."
Me: "How would a squirrel get all the way across town and across the river to get to a squirrel that lives in our tree?"
DG: "I don't know. He's a hitman and it was his job."
Me: "The fat squirrel is a hitman for the squirrelly mafia and he went all the way across town- which is like going to Florida for us- to kill another squirrel because it was his job."
DG: "Of course."
Me: "But he failed. He's still alive but he has a stump tail."
DG: "He was the one that got away."
We approached the stoplight where the huge bridge is that takes us back to our side of the river. As we started up and over the bridge, I asked again how a squirrel would get across the bridge. "Did he walk or did he run along the railing?"
DG: "I don't know the squirrel's story. You're the one saying all this shit."
Me: "No, you're the one saying it. And like any good listener, I'm asking pertinent follow-up questions about the subject matter."
DG sighed. There was a moment or two of silence. Then he said: "The squirrel with the stumpy tail... he's the one that got away. And they had to put him in protective custody."
Me: "You're saying he's in the squirrel protection program?"
DG: "I don't know, but yes."
Me: "Wouldn't he be easy to recognize with just a stump tail or is his tail stumped as an attempt to alter his appearance? So the hitman squirrel sees him and says, 'Hey, you look like that squirrel I was supposed to kill- oh, wait, your tail is stumped, you must not be him.' Like that?"
DG: "I told you that I don't know the whole story."
Me: "Oh, you don't know the whole story about the squirrels, but you know all about the Rats and their Nike shoes. And squirrels are just rats with fluffy tails."
DG seemed shocked! His jaw fell open and he exclaimed: "They are not! Rats are weird, pinchy-faced ugly things and squirrels are all cute with their little noses and faces."
As we got closer to home, the stumpy-tailed squirrel ran out in front of us to the trees alongside our house. I said, "There he goes."
DG hollered (with the windows rolled up, no less): "You better run! We saw your hitman!"