I just dug a grave for a squirrel.
Two graves in fact–both in shady cool spots.
In which hollow it finds a final resting place–is a decision that must wait Meredith’s return from her Memorial Day ceremonies.
The fully grown red squirrel with its long bushy tail, made me jump as I swung the watering can round, early this morning.
There it was, lying peacefully stretched out and unmauled–at the corner of the vegetable patch; like a perfect specimen in a taxidermist’s shop.
No doubt a cadeau [a present] for Meredith–thought one of our six, well-enough-fed cats.
The reds are one of the many joys of living here in southwest France. They lift the spirits with their antics in the trees and their hop-along gait.
We’ve a mulberry tree dropping its tiny ripe black berries on the lawn and the roof of the car; that’s what attracted the poor mite. It ate one too many, too close to the ground and BANG!
We’ll find a stone or heavy tree stump to mark the spot–not far from its last temptation–and place some flowers there. Meredith planned to do the same this morning– honouring the fallen.
Mulberry trees are a source of food for silkworms (leaves) and squirrels (berries).
It’s the fruit of its beautiful, deep-red cousin that I covert.
Succulent, melt-in-the-mouth delicious; they are too delicate to harvest in large quantities. I’ve never seen them in the markets here.
Best to know a private mulberry tree–and not tell anyone about it!
Schoolfriend Chris Fordyce and I feasted–like the squirrel–from the overhanging branches of just such a tree, on the outsikirts of Delphi in Greece–in 1961!
We reached up with bare arms–popping them straight into our hungry mouths.
There was no disguising our indulgence as we quickly signed the youth hostel register for the night, trying to hide our red-stained hands.
When Meredith returned from the ceremony–we agreed the appropriate resting place was under the mulberry tree; on the fringe of our cat cemetery.
Robin Ellis 
Ah…..may he, or she, rest in peace.
Sitting at the breakfast table with the cool breeze of an Adirondack morning coming through the window, hearing the chirping of birds, I read this note as a meditation. One with nature, cycles and rites of life, breathe in, breathe out…….
Namaste
REST IN PEACE, beautiful red squirrel..🌻🌻
Robin and Meredith. I wish the world was blessed more with kind lovely people like you. Love to you both.
What a wonderful thing to do! May God bless you and Meredith for caring for all His creatures. Makes me wish I could visit and sit in your garden for a while. And to taste the mulberries!
” May a flight of angels wing him to his rest. “
Your story about the squirrel and the mulberries made me remember my Aunt Florence in Iowa makes the best mulberry rhubarb pie! 🥧
So sad, but part of the cycle of life. Hope your sweet little guy is romping somewhere over the Rainbow Bridge.
Red squirrels are a rare breed. We only see grey ones in our garden here in England.
This is how we should live – with quiet respect for all life. Thank you.
Robin, I enjoyed this story very much.
As well as the photos.
Merci,
Karen
Such a lovely little soul, looks like he is sleeping so peacefully in such a lovely spot. You are both so very kind and thoughtful. The world needs more caring people like you.
Win & Evy x
That was very compassionate of you,to bury the little squirrel.🐿️❤️