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KIM CHRISTOPHERSON |
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I was visiting at a friend's house one summer evening. He had a
huge oak tree bordering the side of the driveway, it must have been 125 feet to the top. We
were having drinks in the back yard when heard a "thud." I thought it
sounded like a squirrel. It
was.
The poor thing must have missed a branch — he was not in good shape. I got a shovel to put him out of his misery. He was listless as I approached; I thought he was moaning. But as I closed in, he popped up and scampered away, as if waking from a bad dream. He ran around the border of the yard, like nothing was wrong with him. Moments later, he returned to the exact spot where he'd fallen, and died. |
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