Early this morning, my corner of south east England was warm, sunny and tranquil; perfect conditions for practicing Tai Chi in the garden.

Within a few moments of starting the "form", a small grey squirrel sprang out of the bushes to my right and dashed onto the lawn. He stopped a few feet away right in front of me, sat up on his haunches, looked quizzically at me and then hurriedly around, wondering where to go next. He could choose to seek refuge in the bushes from which he had come or in bushes at the bottom of the garden or in a maple tree in the middle of the lawn. However, whichever place he chose would involve a short but potentially dangerous trip across open ground. The squirrel chose the maple and scampered off towards it. As he set off, Jason pounced out from behind the tree, chattering excitedly. Unfortunately for him, the squirrel was close enough to the trunk of the tree to be able to launch himself at it and land halfway up. His momentum then propelled him upward into its canopy of leaves.

Jason tried to follow the squirrel but being so much less agile, could not climb so fast nor so high. He continued his ascent until the leaf cover became too dense for him to be able to see it and the branches too thin to bear his weight. Then he sat back and squealed angrily at the squirrel, no doubt chastising it for not playing the game according to Jason's rules.

Not being the sort of cat to give up an exciting hunt easily, even one where the prey is no longer in view, Jason tried in vain several more times to climb higher up the tree. Finally, he grew tired of being defeated and abandoned the pursuit.

Jason didn't stand a chance of catching the squirrel. Probably, he realised this. Nevertheless, he enjoyed the excitement of the chase and will relish telling his friends the story, no doubt wildly exaggerating the size of the one that got away.

Copyright © Sheenah Large
May 18, 2002