It has been reported that squirrel suicides are on the rise. The bushy-tailed rodents are frying themselves on power lines and transformers in epic numbers--causing tens of thousands of blackouts every year in the U.S. According to USA Today, in Georgia alone, squirrel-related power outages have risen from 5,273 in 2005 to 16,750 in 2006--to the tune of $2 million dollars in damages.
Clearly something must be done. I say, if the squirrels are this depressed, we ought to spending at least $2 million dollars to help them to understand why.
I'm not a psychiatrist or an animal trainer, but I have to think that homelessness has something to do with it. I haven't known one squirrel who isn't living hand to mouth--always scavenging for droppings, whether they be nuts from a tree, or food falling from my paw as I walk through the park. This is a real problem in America, and we're all blind to it. And I'm just like you--I haven't done a thing about it. Oh sure, we'll mutter a few words under our breaths and reach for the broom when they steal food from our bird feeders, but who are we to watch them starve? And who died and made the birds the top of the food chain? Why should we provide free food--and room and board (hello, birdhouses?)--for the flighted ones and not those condemned to claw and scamper?
I have been so blind--I can't believe it's taken this news of blackouts for the squirrels to get my attention. Haven't they been shouting out to us that they're in pain--that they need us? How many squirrel carcasses do we need to pass along the road before we recognize this upward tick in squirrel suicides? They've been trying to get us to notice for years, but we've refused to see them. So they took out our precious T.V. for an hour or so, thinking maybe if we were inconvenienced--we'd realize their plight.
Well I have. And starting right now, I'm going to be there for the squirrel. If he needs help crossing the street, I'll be his crossing guard. If he needs a boost up to the bird feeder, I'll be his wing man. And if he's feeling a little blue, I'll invite him inside for some college basketball and a can of Fisher peanuts. What will you do?
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