I was meeting a friend in the parking lot yesterday. She was bringing me a couple of gifts as an early birthday treat, encouragement to me through a very dark time. We chatted a few moments and then noticed a kerfuffle happening above us in the nearby tree.

“What is that noise?” I muttered. We looked up and saw that the several squirrels inhabiting this tree were having a party of some sort– but no, a battle, we decided.

As spectators, we wondered aloud what the problem could be. An interloper? Unwanted advances from Peppy Le Pew, but in squirrel form?

A minute passed, and two of these creatures hanging on a limb above became embroiled in a knock-down, drag-out. Clearly, there was some territorial dispute. As the two locked ferociously in combat, one got the upper hand. In horror, we watched as one ball of fluff fell to the asphalt with a great smack! The sound insinuated great injury.

My friend and I ran to the opposite side of my vehicle, thinking we could give our poor underdog some aid. The disheveled fellow struggled onto the grassy berm under the tree, then flattened himself as if he were about to fly from tree to tree, but no flight took place. He lay there, unmoving, stunned. I took a step forward, and he moved away, but slowly. He would have nothing to do with us.

He hugged the ground for a couple of minutes more, and some part of him was dangling from his belly. I assumed this might be his small man-sac. I was hopeful he might recover, that the fall from grace had knocked the wind, or the testosterone, out of him briefly. Another moment’s passing, and he was able to walk off, though not spryly as a squirrel should.

As if on cue, the creatures above began chattering and screeching. Small pieces of wood, bark, and leaves began raining down onto the hood of my vehicle. We were now under attack!

Interestingly, our unwanted presence became the focus of squirrel rage. (This has happened only one other time in my life, as I was walking innocently through a forest and was pelted with a hickory nut; an unprovoked attack that happened last summer.)

As my friend and I had concluded our business, and the victors of this fight were becoming more vicious, we decided it was time to cede the small fiefdom to its rightful rulers. We each walked to our cars, dodging hurled wood chips and squirrel curses.

I will always view this as a surprising lesson in respect. I had always taken for granted that squirrels were sweet beasts who enjoyed my company and my occasional offerings of peanuts. After yesterday, it is unlikely that I will take the cute, fluffy-tailed tree dwellers for granted. My view of their capabilities, and of their opinions of me, has certainly changed. In future, I vow to give them space and deference, lest I lose my nuts.