Despite All My Rage...

...I'm Still Just a Squirrel in a Cage.

I got my fugitive squirrel that has been breaking into my bedroom. I found him in the live trap as soon as I got home from work. The ample supply of bait had been licked clean and since I wasn't certain how long it had been in there, I fed it some peanut butter and gave it some water. I had a momentary lapse of judgment as it was eating the peanut butter and bread I held up to the cage, thinking "It's so cute, maybe it could be a pet", then I came to my senses--see, even birdchicks have moments of insanity. Then it was off to an undisclosed location with an ample supply of mixed nuts.

I did a phone interview and was asked one of the best questions: If I were in the woods looking at a good bird and Bill Clinton walked by, which would I be more interested in, Bill Clinton or the bird? My response? Depends on the bird. Actually, truth be told I would probably try and engage Former President Clinton and show him how cool the bird was.

Cinnamon is still improving her birding skills. Maybe she can lead bird trips with me one day. By the way, if you don't own a copy of Photographic Guide to North American Raptors, you need to get that into your birding library ASAP. Cinnamon is reading (and chinning, a thing rabbits do when they are announcing their ownership of an object) my fifth copy. I always end up giving mine away to a needy birder.