So, where is all the squirrel poop? I mean, at least around here, there are squirrels all over the place. Just this morning, on our walk, BHD and I watched a squirrel hustle up a tree, shimmy down a skinny branch and make a valiant leap from said branch to the tip of the peaked roof of a nice Storybook Tudor house...and miss. Scrambling to get a foothold on the roof, he fell down the face of the house, bounced off the retaining wall and landed on the lawn - feet first. As we watched in disbelief, he shook himself off and started back up the tree, although a little more slowly and not a little bit ashamed.
So, this afternoon, I'm out back picking up the dog nuggets from the yard (although J is supposed to be doing this for $1 everyday so he can earn a longboard, but I digress) and another squirrel is chattering away at us from the neighbor's redwood tree. I figure that in a one block radius, there must be hundreds, if not thousands, of squirrels. By rights, we should be knee-deep in squirrel poop, but I've never seen any. I wouldn't even know a piece of squirrel poop if I stepped right in it. Maybe they've got secret potty trees or a cadre of squirrels that goes out every morning and cleans up the yards and streets before anyone else is awake. It's got to be something, because now that I'm aware of it, the absence of squirrel poop is disturbing.
On this date: In 1929, Martin Luther King Jr. was born.