The furry acrobat

The Lady of the House (LOH) was curiously peering through the balcony window when she gestured to hurry-up. I tip-toed and stood behind her. She whispered “squirrel”.

Intrigued, my eyes widened as I spotted it, crouched on a tiny branch of our curry leaves plant. It was a young squirrel that sought refuge after perhaps losing its way.

Since the lockdown, we’ve had winged visitors such as birds, bees and butterflies in our little balcony garden. This squirrel, however, was a rare visitor. The last time I saw squirrels was decades ago when they regularly raced up and down the trees and walls in our compound.

We decided to let it be and silently admired the tiny rodent looking scared. Every time it heard the honk of a vehicle or any sound, it quivered. Just when we decided to go about our business, it moved and bit into a leaf. It tried another curry leaf but probably found it unpalatable and planted itself cosily on a branch.

What happened next was unbelievably fascinating. For the next five minutes, the furry creature, in a sudden show of bravado, entertained us with some gymnastics moves.

It tumbled and vaulted on the tiny branches as if it owned the place, blissfully unaware of charmed spectators just across the sliding glass window. Or was it aware and decided to continue showing off its skills with the same grace on the balance beam by mounting on the narrow balcony railing.

The best was its moves on the uneven bars, two tiny branches one below the other when it leaped, turned and dismounted. As a finale, it scrambled down the main trunk of the plant to do floor exercises by twisting and turning rapidly a few times before showing its bushy tail and crawling up the plant.

Captivated by the little squirrel’s superb balance, flexibility, agility and alertness, we held our breath, even as the LOH managed to astutely click a few shots and a short video with her phone.

For entertaining us with its ‘perfect 10’ performance, it deserved a prize. I quickly brought a few peanuts I had squirrelled away but as I scattered them on the balcony floor, it stared at me incredulously, let out some chattering sounds and scampered away across the ledge.

I was disappointed but not surprised at its abrupt departure. The following morning, I found only bits of the shell, a sign it had helped itself overnight. I’m hopeful if I scatter nuts every day it will come for a ready meal and I may be entertained with some riveting acrobatic performances.