Charlie and his family watched with interest as the people
packed their treasures.

“They must be storing up,”
he told his family,
but that seemed wrong.
Spring blossomed.
This was no time for stashing.

Then the yard sale,
noise and confusion.
too many people.
Way too many cars.
Charlie kept his family
snug in the huge Bur Oak.
“Do you know what cars do
to squirrels?”
he chided his loved ones.

A huge truck arrived
and the cache disappeared.
To Charlie,
this was the stuff of myth.

The younger woman
and the gray mother carried
bags of bird seed,
but the feeders where Carlie
with family and friends feasted
were long gone.
The younger woman still brought
yummies occasionally,
placing the treasure at wood’s
.   edge.
Charlie rubbed his tummy
contemplating corn ears
and Spauldings Doughnuts.

Today he listened attentively
from his oak perch. His family
pressed closely, ears cocked.

“I’m so sorry you and Dad
are apartment-bound.”
said the younger.

Gray said, “A reality
of our times. We no longer need this big house,
and with your dad accepting
The Offer . . .”

Charlie saw the tears in their
.  eyes.

The two women tugged the bags
of bird food almost to the woods. Seed and dried corn cobs tumbled to the grass.

Charlie’s mouth watered;
his kids pulled at his fur.

The women barely turned
and hordes of critters descended.
Charlie stuffed and stuffed.
He lay upon the ground,
His belly buldged,
his cheeks were packed for later.

Two days later, it was gone.
Every seed, corn kernel,
bread crumb – vanished.
Charlie et al gazed at the house. The women came no more.

“What’s this?” Charlie asked,
paws outstretched, nose high.
“One big food dump
and now they are gone?
How we gonna manage?”

-Betsy Packard