One bad squirrel a blot on the rest
My family has somehow managed to coexist peacefully through the years despite a fundamental theological difference between us. That difference concerns animals, which I largely view as an excellent source of protein and my mother and late grandmother view/viewed as sweet little creatures to be loved and nurtured.
Now, please understand that I am not talking about normal pets like dogs, cats, gerbils and the like. No, my mother and grandmother have devoted themselves to the rehabilitation of things like possums, squirrels, raccoons, beavers, badgers, wild boars and the occasional mastodon.
Of all of these, the ones that I learned to dislike the most were the squirrels. This is solely the fault of one evil little squirrel that my grandmother nursed back to health, a squirrel that I am convinced to this day was either demonpossessed or high on crack.
I was about 20 years old and had just gotten to Grandma’s house after a Sunday morning service. I always brought some comfortable clothes to change into, and on the fateful day in question I was on the way in to the bathroom to get out of my dress clothes and into my jeans and T-shirt.
Since no one could see the bathroom from the hallway I was walking down, I was already in the process of unbuttoning my shirt on the way there. I entered the bathroom, slammed the door shut behind me, yanked my shirt off and looked up just in time to realize the terrible mistake I had made.
In a millisecond I was able to process several thoughts. One, my grandmother had turned the squirrel loose in the bathroom to let it exercise. Two, that squirrel was airborne and headed toward my bare chest and face. Three, the door was shut behind me and there was no way I could get it open and get out in time. And so I did the only thing that came to mind: I turned my back to the airborne demonic squirrel and plastered myself up against the door.
That did not help, not even a little. The squirrel landed on me and dug in tight with every single claw. He then began to gnaw at my back like he was cracking open a nut. Trust me, those little boogers have very, very sharp teeth and claws!
The pain was excruciating, so I reached my hand back to grab him and pry him off. The end result of that was that he bit me in the webbing of my hand between the thumb and pointer finger, resulting in my voice achieving a level of soprano that the Italian castrati of yesteryear would envy.
I yanked my hand back and it was squirting blood. Panicked and in pain, I began to spin around in circles hoping to sling the evil little thing off.
No dice. I looked back and saw his tail and poofy posterior out in the air, but he was still holding on tight with his two front sets of claws and still gnawing at my back.
Finally, alpha male that I am, I screamed like a little girl. My grandmother heard my anguished cries and came running in to rescue … the squirrel. Hearing her coo and cluck over that squirrel, “calming him down after such a terrible experience,” that kind of thing will make you feel very lonely up at the top of the food chain. I have harbored a great dislike for squirrels everywhere ever since.
But why? After all, my bad experience was only with one squirrel. It could be that other squirrels are wonderful, sweet, docile and desire nothing more than to be a blessing to humanity. Perhaps they actually bring acorns to the homeless and chestnuts to people holding up signs that say “Will Work For Food.” But you see, that one squirrel, whether he meant to or not, has jaded me on squirrels everywhere.
Now please think with me of the stereotypes in our world. Crooked lawyers, quack doctors, money-hungry preachers, sleazy politicians, dishonest mechanics, dumb Southerners, stuck-up Northerners, the list could go on forever. The point is, what each one of us does affects all of us.
Proverbs 22:1 says, “A good name is rather to be chosen than great riches.” Please remember that whatever you are, your testimony will either give a good name to others like you or a bad name to others like you. Each of us has a great responsibility.
Romans 14:7 says, “For none of us liveth to himself, and no man dieth to himself.” Whether you are a preacher, teacher, parent, police officer, factory worker, mechanic, whatever, you have a responsibility to live your life in such a way that you do not damage the testimony of others.
Whatever you are, be good at it and be godly in it; others are counting on you.
And, by the way, if anyone has a good recipe for squirrel, I would love a copy of it.