What Really Happened In That Fairy Tale

Once upon a morning I was standing outside by the bayberry tree--bleary-eyed, hair a-tangled, dressed in old jammies and wearing a mismatched long-sleeve grungy shirt (squirrel armor), still in my chewed-up bunny slippers--shaking down the teeshirt and doggy peepad from the squirrel manor.  It's become known throughout the feathered and furry community that at this particular time of day, food is available near that tree because of the leftover nuts, leafs, bark, branches, moss that a VERY SPOILT squirrel hasn't eaten.

This squirrel leftover is the main morning attraction and if I stand very still after doing the shaking thing, squirrels and birds will move in on their breakfast.  So, within a few feet of my bunny slippers, little animals hop around and fly in and out, sometimes even coming close enough to peck at those bunny noses. 

And if it's cold enough that the angel birdbath is frozen, I even bring out, much to my dogs' indignation, the big dog bowl, filled with water, so the birdies can eat and drink and be merry.  I enjoy the show enough to stand out there in inadequate warm clothes even during those really cold mornings.

Sometimes we get interrupted.  My neighbor and their cute terriers would cause an instant racket of barks and back-and-forth scolding from my animals as they rush off.  But if I time it just right, I'm all alone in my little animal kingdom.

Who would show up unexpectedly but my grumpy friend who don't care much about nature?  The driveway was far enough from the tree that my little friends couldn't see him.  He stood there watching the scene for all of ten seconds--the rumpled hair, the bunny slippers, the cute little creatures around me.

"Well, what do you know," he drawled.  "It's that crazy Snow White and her 100 squirrels."

Charming.

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