A tap on the window …

Which is interesting in itself because this window is located on the second floor of my house. Whew.

Yes, I was in the room at the time and jerked by head to catch a glimpse of whatever it was. I looked to the left and to the right. Nothing.

But then, a swish of a big, busy tail came into sight. Yep, it was a squirrel.

A squirrel, I tell you. It peered into the window as though on a mission. I started for the broom then hesitated. What if the furry thing was there for a reason, maybe a save-the-world type message, which was meant only for me. Could happen, I reasoned.

Wait a minute; perhaps I have overdosed on recent news reports about flights to Mars and videos from the Hubble Space Telescope. I mean would any sane person pair the notion of a squirrel tapping on a window to an out of space connection and a message to save the world?

Well yes, it seems perfectly sensible to me. I don't take anything for granted.

So's this squirrel is on my window and I've put the broom away. I am ready to take my unforgettable place in the universe.

Then there was a jump to the next window – (not me, the furry one). I was happy that I had recently cleaned the glass. Didn't want to miss any part of the message that I was sure was about to take place.

I wondered if the transmission was to be verbally because I don't talk squirrel very well. I even conjured up the idea of a virtual message but then I didn't notice a laptop on the rodent or perhaps he had an assistant nearby to do the high-tech stuff.

I was ready for anything.

As the little thing and I eyeballed each other, I felt somewhat privileged. He could have chosen anyone but he picked me.

The beady, brown eyes and swishing of the tail were perhaps a message in code. I studied on it for a while, but got nothing. I'm only human, sort of, with, I think, an overloaded mind, which clicks along at an amazing speed, at times.

We continued, the squirrel and I, with our stare down and well, I won, because he dashed away.

“Come back, come back,” I heard a voice scream. Then I realized it was me. I didn't want him to leave.

But I saw him swing onto a pine tree limb and scamper away. I was lost without him. Strange because our acquaintance consisted of only two minutes but I was profoundly affected. You know like a once in a lifetime experience.

I wondered about him, his family and his hopes and dreams. Oh you who phoo-phoo a squirrel and his ambitions. A rodent has his rights.

Wait a minute, wait a minute – what was that?

“A squirrel is just a rat with a cuter outfit.” Sarah Jessica Parker.

“Arrgh! I beg your pardon, Ms Parker. Not my squirrel!”

My mind went blank. Where is my squirrel when I need him?

Then, there was another tap. This time at the front door.

Oh, it's only Hubs.

He breathlessly stammered. “Hey, help me with this box. UPS just dropped it off.”

I blinked. “What is it?”

“A nifty rodent cage. It has a little two door outfit with a trap underneath.”

Sigh. I will ignore the next tap I hear at my house. I'm not up to it.

Anne McKee is a proud native Meridianite and Mississippi historian. She is the author of “Remembering Mississippi” and “Historic Photos of Mississippi.” Anne is primarily known as a Mississippi Storyteller and as well the Director of Rose Hill Cemetery Costumed Tour. See her website:

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