Phil Elmore: Individual Authoring Services

"Always grab the reader by the throat in the first paragraph, sink your thumbs into his windpipe in the second, and hold him against the wall until the tag line."
- Paul O'Neil

All Original Site Content
Copyright © 2003-2004
Phil Elmore, all rights reserved.

The Black Squirrels are Coming
February 2004

I had never seen a black squirrel until I moved to Central New York State.

I knew there were gray squirrels and red squirrels. I thought of squirrels as cute, at least until those “Clusters” commercials conjured the image of hordes of man-eating squirrels swarming over suburban families to devour them, piranha-like, in pursuit of their nut-filled breakfast cereals. I should have known. Those commercials were a warning.

Sure, we’re supposed to think it’s adorable the way grown men cower in fear as they watch squirrels swarming over their lawns, eying them with a hunger that rivals that of the most virulent army ants. Sure, it looks like something out of a cute and fuzzy Hitchcock movie, but hey, they’re cute and fuzzy. What’s the problem here?

I saw my first black squirrel not long after I moved into the area. I was driving and saw it out of the corner of my eye. It was a soot-covered, sinister rodent striding purposefully across a suburban lawn. I thought I was mistaken. I thought the squirrel was simply dirty. I dismissed it as my imagination.

Then I saw another one.

Then other people told me they, too, had seen the black squirrels.

You see, the black coat is a mutation, an adaptation to make the squirrel a better night hunter. Think about it. Nuts don’t notice a squirrel in broad daylight. The squirrels aren’t hiding from their food at night. They’re hiding from US.

Mark my words. The black squirrels are coming and they’re looking to get even. Every time a squirrel creeps into a substation and blacks out a neighborhood, he’s clearing the way for black squirrel commandos. They’re looking to eliminate us and make way for a new society of evolved squirrels. I mean, look at a squirrel some time. Their little hands might as well have thumbs. They’re climbing the evolutionary ladder and they’re looking to kick us out of the way.

They’ve called me mad. They’ve said the black squirrels are harmless. But I ask you: if you woke up today and your neighborhood was full of black-furred koalas or black-feathered chickens or something, you’d be pretty alarmed, wouldn’t you? Wouldn’t you?

Then again, maybe there is no black squirrel threat.

Maybe I’m just nuts.