A Squirrel Story
One day I was late. As my sister and I drove off, we noticed a little creature on the curb. We decided to pull over, and transport a hurt squirrel to a grassy area. Some driver smashed his two hind legs. He looked like a seal. It was really sad. As I went home to bring cereal, water, and popsicle sticks to his aid, he died. Since then my sister and I have quarreled about who caused the squirrel's death. My sister blames me for this squirrel's death. I blame her for it's death. My mother said it wasn't our fault.
Anytime we see a squirrel, in a movie ("Charlie and the Chocolate Factory") or in a park, she would make a sidebar comment. Well, I sent her photos of a squirrel in New York, who came up to me. I even told her I named him Fred. She still remarked that the East Coast squirrels must not know about my reputation. Whatever...Fred is cute.