I try to act as if nothing unusual is going on, especially chipmunk removal. I’m fully aware of everything going on, of course. I’m a wild animal, for heavens sakes. I’m gifted with heightened smell, hearing that’s good enough for my needs, and an innate fear of absolutely everything. This serves me well. Keeps me safe from predators like snakes, raccoons, skunks, dogs, cats, and keeps me safe from chipmunk removal. It hasn’t worked so well for some of my chipmunk fellows. Some have been caught, especially when they get a little too bold for their own good, or when they actually dig holes into people’s houses, getting them into all sorts of trouble. But, so far, I’ve been just fine.
I barely stick the tip of my nose out of my comfy little chipmunk hole and sniff the air. Whiskers are straight out, testing the air for any movement, but there’s nothing immediately around the entrance to the tunnel. Regardless, I quickly back down the hole, just to see if anything comes popping out at me, and wait. Nothing. Face twitching, I dare to expose my entire head out of the hole, fully alert and ready to dive back down to safety. Still, nothing happens. My eyes are wide, taking in everything going on around me. There’s no immediate threat, no imminent danger, but there’s a chipmunk removal man just beyond the perimeter of safety. He thinks he can wait me out. But, I excel at patience.
The chipmunk removal man hasn’t moved, but I notice the small cage at his feet. He isn’t directly looking at me, and I pretend I’m completely unaware of him, but we both know that we see each other. Nonchalantly, I scoop some seeds up into my cheeks, then stop, and hunker down, ready to flee at the first sign of pursuit. Nothing.
I venture out of the tunnel completely and even put my back to the chipmunk removal man and his cage as if to tell him I’m not worried the least little bit. I flick my tail, and freeze as I notice a large bird eyeing me from the tree. Faster than light, I’m back down into my tunnel of safety, before I realize the bird won’t attack me as long as that human is so close.
I wait, and wait. I hear a “whoosh” of wings, and assume the bird is gone. Once again, I dare to allow the very tip of my nose test the air beyond my tunnel. So far, still safe. Cautiously, with jerky movements that ready me for a flight back to freedom, I slowly venture out of the hole once more. I immediately notice the man is gone, but his chipmunk removal cage is not. It’s right there, next to my tunnel. I can’t believe he thinks I am that stupid. But, oooh, what is that divine smell coming from within the metal bars? It can’t be peanuts. I adore peanuts. A movement to my left sends me all the way down the tunnel into my underground burrow, and I consider what’s just happened. My thoughts become consumed with peanuts, and I begin to wonder if I’m fast enough, could I get those peanuts out before being trapped? Chipmunk removal or not, the peanuts are just there for the taking, right?