Wednesday, June 17, 2020

The Jane Goodall of the squirrels

Didn't you already do a blog post called "The Jane Goodall of the squirrels"?

Hey! Who's asking the questions around here?

I guess you are. Fire away.

Do all the squirrels know you and treat you as one of the family?

Only in the sense that sometimes I have noticed squirrels running away from other squirrels.

What have you learned living with the squirrels?

Well, I don't, you know, live with them. I visit them occasionally for five or ten minutes.

What have you learned living with the squirrels?


What have you learned living with the squirrels?

I have learned that not only do squirrels have distinctive appearances, but they also have discernible personalities. Like, one might want nothing to do with me. One might be so absorbed in eating they don't care. And one might be positively curious about me, which is super flattering and I am always tempted to offer my blog address to that squirrel and suggest they pop in and look around here at clerkmanifesto for pictures of themselves.

Hey, this is my blog too!



Super cool.


You said it!

Brothers for life!

Closer than brothers, same person!



How about a bunch of squirrel pictures?

I'll see if I can find any in focus. Pay attention to how different they look!

It is not super obvious to me, but then I am not The Jane Goodall of the Squirrels. You are!

Thank you.


  1. They all look so serious; do squirrels ever smile? I'm sure that the Jane Goodall of Squirrels would know.

    My closest encounter with a squirrel was on campus back in the 70s. I carried peanuts with me and I'd sit on the hill by Burton Hall and dole them out to the local squirrels. But one time I was walking in that area, and I caused a peanut in its shell to make a crinkling sound. Next thing I knew, a squirrel had jumped onto the sleeve of my jacket. My reflex was to fling my arm in the air, which I did, causing the Squirrel to become airborne. And from that day, I did not take peanuts to campus.

    1. I would do the same thing and occasionally embarrass myself by flinging about wildly when I think some critter has touched me, even if it's a leaf or something. A squirrel I would definitely fling first, ask questions later. Fortunately they can take a pretty good fall.

      As to smiling squirrels, I have put your question to the Jane Goodall of the squirrels and he said "I have not seen a squirrel smile and suspect that at least most of them don't, but I'm not sure that they are immune to indulging in a touch of whimsy every once in awhile."


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