That's So Squirrelly

It's not nice to laugh at the misfortunes of others, but sometimes it's just so hard not to -- especially when it's utterly bizarre.

I worked at a beautiful office building on NY Ave., in DC that was fronted in glass and overlooked a brick courtyard, with a tiny patch of lawn and a few trees. One spring, a male squirrel began attacking men who walked by 'his' turf. He was overly protective of this territory because of mating season, the animal control people later mused, though we never saw him woo females, and he never attacked female humans. Every afternoon for about four days I could count on looking out the window and being entertained by watching -- like some great silent screen pantomime -- men in suits walking soberly through the courtyard one second, and then seconds later leaping in the air like a ballet dancer, clutching their head in horror, and either bunny hopping or spinning in circles with what resembled a coonskin cap flapping in wild gyrations on their head. One guy slapped himself on the head with his brief case as hard as he could and then flopped on the grass, rolling, while two men rushed to help him and beat the squirrel back with a trench coat. Another time the guy was shouting at the squirrel like you would a dog that refused to heel, as if it was going to respond to verbal commands. Mostly they got scratched up and disgruntled, and their dignity really took a big hit. We were warned not to go out for breaks in the courtyard until animal control captured the poor misguided beast. The entertainment was eventually captured and carted away, and I've never laughed so hard soda's poured out my nose again.