The Thirsty Squirrel

In recent weeks, I have been remiss 

in emptying the saucers under my garden pots.

Rain and watering have left them full of water. 

And leave it to a squirrel to take advantage of the situation.

One (or maybe more) has decided the deepest saucer filled with water

makes just the place to wet squirrely lips and quench squirrely thirst. 

I wish "creptitude" were a real word in English,

for it describes perfectly the stealth of the most recent intrepid squirrel 

as he approached the large saucer under a terracotta pot.

First he scaled the lattice around the bottom of the deck,

then shimmied across the railing before dropping down to the deck floor.

Looking left then right, he tiptoed across the wooden floor 

and stuck his tiny gray head into the saucer. 

I watched him take a long, cool drink

as his sticky little front paws gripped the sides for balance.

For a moment, I was tempted to indulge in some childish mischief 

and give that squirrel a start. 

I weighed my options: tap on the window? Open and close the door? 

Perhaps I deliberated too long, or maybe, I felt a little compassion stir.

At any rate, he finished his drink and absconded.

But next time, squirrel, 

you might want to keep one eye on the door while you drink.

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