Foodies come in all shapes and sizes

Jackson and I have a routine. We walk. A lot. We walk because he can jump my backyard fence as easily as he breathes. So at least three daily walks happen. He enjoys it because it allows him to patrol his neighborhood for squirrels, rabbits and crows and I enjoy it because my leaf lard ass sits in this chair entirely too much blog surfing. So we walk. As you can imagine, we see a lot of squirrels. Squirrels in trees, squirrels on the ground, squirrels just being squirrels.

What sometimes scares me is when we don't see any squirrels at all on our walk, as if the world had gone all zombie and the zombies started by eating the squirrels first. (not really a bad thing)

MUST EAT SQUIRREL BRAINS!!!!!

Anyhoo, we were out on one of our mid-afternoon walks when we spied a pair of squirrels in the street. This is not unusual. The fat one in the middle of the street had something that appeared white in it's mouth. I say white because I couldn't really see it and my brain just assumed it was an apple. Of course Jackson saw it and went into his patented super slow silent stalking mode, convinced of his own invisibility. I know this because I get nastiest dirty looks whenever I step on a dry leaf when he's in his stalk. Normally the squirrels feel the deathrays shooting out of his eyes and scamper back up the nearest tree post haste. But this squirrel, he kept coming towards us, heading for a tree on the other side of road, very slowly. Drool puddles started to form beneath Jackson's feet in anticipation of Slow Stupid Squirrel. Me? I'm suddenly worried that the white thing in the squirrel's mouth is foam and that we've found ourselves a rabid squirrel. The situation almost reached the point of leaping dog death teeth when the squirrel, not rabid, not slow nor stupid suddenly dropped what was in it's mouth and turned furry tail and ran back across the street. For all you folks who don't believe animals experience emotions like disappointment, anger or frustration, you needed to see Jackson after the Almost Squirrel Snack.

It wasn't until I comforted the hound at his near miss of having a squirrel actually walk into his mouth that I finally saw what the squirrel was hauling back to his nest.

A full freaking loaf of french bread??? This loaf was longer than the squirrel. No wonder the dumb ass was moving so slow. I'm so sad I didn't get to see him attempt to get it up his tree. Of course my first thought was "Who throws out a whole loaf of french bread?". My second thought was, damn, squirrel's got foodie game! You go Squirrel! Don't forget the brie.