carolyn kellogg

This is not about books.

This is about squirrels.

Today Boing Boing said that a pack of treed squirrels skittered down to gut the dog that was barking at them. This happened, ostensibly, in Russia. As a former Weekly World News subscriber, I know that suspect stories are often sited east of Europe (you know, aliens, BatBoy, Marilyn Monroe’s ghost). But this is not the only mad squirrel incident of the fall.

Early in October, squirrels in South London were spotted cracked out of their little furry skulls, according to the Guardian. They may have dug up buried stashes, or nibbled at discarded pipes. The Brits paint the squirrels on crack scene so well:

If they are not launching
themselves at you in drug-fuelled desperation, their bloodshot eyes are
searching for their next fix, pink paws scrabbling in the ground.

I was hoping that these mad squirrel stories might be fiction. Alas, a fairly diligent google search seems to show that the little guys are indeed working though some anger — pretty destructive ways. Poor little dog-icidal crack squirrels.

This non-literary message was brought to you by someone plowing through Writing and Sexual Difference, with The Derrida Reader on deck. Aren’t crack squirrels more fun?