He's A Survivor

Insensate, you say? Nasty
rodents, are they? The very
small, black squirrel with its
long, somewhat scruffy tail
confronts me. Reading in my
presence not-too-obvious signals
that something draws us to one
another. In these woods, we
are all animals of sorts.

In recognition of our similarities
in nature I come bearing gifts
as I am so often led to do,
leaving them where they will be
found and valued. This little
fellow certainly not one I
recognize with any familiarity
obviously seems to know me.

He hesitates but momentarily
in the near proximity of our
two little dogs taking no notice
of his audacity. Approaching
closer, veering off from the
forest interior, he awaits my
reaction, ventures closer yet until
I do react, sending a peanut
neatly tumbling his way.

Unhurriedly, the tiny fellow
breaches the remaining gap to
claim his prize, turning it in
his clever paws, securing it in
his maw, then proceeding at a
squirrel-leisurely pace, to depart.
No reckless behaviour, but one
born of trust and confidence.