Saturday, September 19, 2009
Where have all the chipmunks gone?
Earlier this summer, my backyard was full of the little rodents. I would chase them and chase them all the time--although I never caught one. Then, a couple of weeks ago, they all disappeared. My humans found a dead chipmunk on the grass, and they thought that I had done it in. But I didn't.
Yesterday, the next-door neighbor told my humans that she had called in an exterminator to rid her house of mice. Of course the exterminator put poison both inside and outside the house. That's when she said that she had found a dead chipmunk in the yard. The chipmunks must have all eaten the tasty poison, because they're gone.
I loved chasing my chipmunks. I wrote a poem about them--Timber Tiger, the slang name for chipmunks in parts of the Pacific Northwest. Even if I could have caught one, I never would have killed them all. I miss my Timber Tigers very much.
My timber tigers will be remembered on the Friday Ark, and in the Carnival of the Cats, hosted this week by House Panthers.
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