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Spirit Animal
The Way of the Squirrel
Perhaps I am strange. I have done things, inexplicably, without conscious thought and experienced wonder. Such as the time I met a squirrel on UNT campus. Crossing one of the yards, I paused to observe a squirrel. I knelt down, extended a hand palm up. The squirrel approached, put its hand in mine, palm down. We made eye contact while holding hands. Time seemed to stop. It withdrew its hand and returned to foraging. I stood up. Then a dozen fellow students rushed me and asked, “How did you do that?!” I shrugged, insufferably pleased with myself, “Happens all the time” and walked away.
It doesn’t happen all the time and I don’t know why I said that. I still don’t know why I took a knee to a random squirrel at UNT. There was an albino squirrel on campus at the time I attended. Well known. The campus mourned for it when the hawk got it. I mourned for it, even though I have nothing against hawks. I like them, too. I have spoken to many hawks, and I would have liked to have been chosen by the clan of hawks, but the invitation never came.
I really wanted dolphins to be my spirit animals. I love dolphins. I suppose there was no way for me to be initiated by dolphins, being so far inland. I used to scuba dive and…
