Wednesday, December 26, 2007


     The morning snow was fresh on the ground as Simon Badger left the knot hole of his oak tree. He wrapped his neck in his favorite blue scarf, put his winter boots on and headed out for Jeremy Squirrel’s.
     Jeremy had been worrisome lately. The last time Simon had seen him, Jeremy had mentioned that his wife, Alana Squirrel, had been complaining that he and Simon had spent too many nights out together. Simon chuckled at this prospect. Silly Alana, he thought. Always trying to monopolize Jeremy’s time. Didn’t she know that once a badger and a squirrel got together in this crazy, woodland world that fun times and adventures keep a’coming? Like the time the both of them had thwarted Canuck Red’s attempts at chopping down Simon’s oak tree home. Or when Frankie Skunk needed their help in Big Pond. Or that time when Robo-Ranger got set loose in the national park. This badger/squirrel team could not be stopped.
     Simon knocked on Jeremy’s door at the base of the stump. No answer. Weird, he thought. He turned the knob and opened the door and let out a "Jeremy," then an "Alana!" The kitchen was a huge mess. The oven was spewing black smoke and the smell of burnt pecans filled the air. Simon raced over to the oven and turned it off.
     A creaking sound was coming from Jeremy’s woodshop downstairs. Maybe Jeremy was cooking something, went downstairs to work on one of his trademark inventions and forgot about the oven, Simon thought. That sounds like Jeremy Squirrel alright.
     Simon walked downstairs and stopped at the bottom stair when he saw Jeremy hanging from a noose attached to an overhead crossbeam. Simon stood there in shock. He looked at the overturned chair below Jeremy and saw a note lying there. In big, black marker, it read, "I’m sorry, Alana. No nuts this years. Love, Jeremy."
     Simon sat on the bottom step with his head in his hands. He slowly glanced around Jeremy’s workshop at all the wonderful things Jeremy had made in the past. The wooden hovercraft, the wooden jetboots, the wooden, submergible flame-thrower. All he could think about was how hard it would be to get into adventures without the greatest squirrel in the world by his side.



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