Dead Squirrels - Tales Don’t Tell
By Alex Carrier

People who work on computers can be a cranky lot – especially when something comes between them and technology. Like – say for instance – lack of electricity!

Oh, yes, I’m used to the “it’s lightening outside so perhaps you should not be touching a piece of electrical equipment” need to get off the computer. Or even the, “what do you mean we should check with the electric company before we dig” interruption of power.

Neither of these applies to the problem inconveniently, irritatingly and, far too constantly, bringing on a good case of author’s ire and writer’s wrath.

The morning is crisp with early winter and sunny in the way that brightens the sky but doesn’t warm it. The husband is off to work, the pets are fed and comfy and I am ready and eager to start writing.

I sit at the computer waiting for the first burst of morning inspiration. The air explodes with noise and everything electric in the house goes completely, irrevocably, deadly quiet. I am faced with the black screen of nothingness. Drat!

There are several of us in the neighborhood who work from our homes and computers are integral to our business; so, it is no surprise to me when I step outside to find a surly group of equally annoyed and frustrated friends.

We converge on our neighbor’s yard knowing what we will find has created this interruption in our morning routine. The fuse is off on the power pole and on the ground is the still sizzling carcass of a squirrel.

The tail is frizzed, the whiskers blackened cinders and the fur smoked. This squirrel is fried, toast, deceased, Kaput, dead, and so is our power.

Live squirrels are delightful to watch. This is the time when they are courting, females coyly twitching their tails come-hither to the hapless males who chase but never catch them. There is a lot of activity so spring should bring many young.

Unfortunately, squirrel antics are interrupting our technology driven home-based industries on a regular, sometimes daily, basis. Not to mention turning several lovely, intelligent women into irascible, irritable, raging lunatics. Like the dead squirrel, it is not a pretty sight.

Which brings me to the conundrum of genetic memory and survival of the fittest. Genetic memory is that wonderful ability nature has for passing along important information from one generation to the next. Like, eating good; not eating, not so good.

Genetic memory is vital to survival of the fittest and the species but here is the rub. The squirrels who have learned the danger of the power line have not passed that genetic memory along to offspring.

And since dead squirrels tell no tales, then I suppose we will all just go back to our homes and wait for the power to be restored – again. So much for deadlines.

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