I waded in as far as I could, pleading with them to stop, but to no avail. They were not paying any attention to me. The old ploy of tossing peanuts wasn't working.
Then a black squirrel escaped from the bushes and ran up a tree with several others in hot pursuit, and then back down and into the bushes again. This went on for a while. I thought about all the wounds I've seen on squirrels during the winter months. These wounds are often slow to heal and are especially nasty because of the cold. Yet that's when they appear. I wondered if I was seeing the source of them now, if they fight among themselves because they get so cold and desperate. Were they exhibiting existential angst?
Things finally calmed down and I went back to feeding the other squirrels.
|Don't look at me... I had nothin' to do with it.|
The gray squirrel however, was too intent on harassment, and ignored the offer:
Duh, mating season!