I HAVE A CHIPMUNK NAMED SPOT. Or rather he has me—as provider and admirer and wrapped around his little…er… toe. I came to be attached to Spot last summer, when he would climb up my leg as I sat on the deck and eat peanuts off my knee. Actually he would stuff them into his cheeks and run off to hide them. But this spring I’ve been worried. While other chipmunks in other woodlots have been busily scurrying about with important chipmunk business to attend to, Spot was nowhere to be seen.
Until this afternoon. Suddenly there he was, under the bird feeding station, happily gathering treasures and morsels. I was SO glad to see him and to know he survived the winter! Now we have many spring and summer days to look forward to, Spot and I. For I am a creature of old habits and familiar ways and enjoy feeding the chipmunks just as I did as a little boy, in the one or two weeks per year that we got to spend beneath the pines at a North Woods resort. There I dreamed of someday living in such an enchanted place myself. Now the dream has come true and I have Spot and his kin to share it with me.
Oh, you may wonder why I have named such a clearly striped creature Spot. Or how I know him on sight. Well, look closely. There, on the visible white stripe on his left flank, is a dark spot. Very small, but if you know where to look, it’s there. Besides, naming a little striped fellow ‘Spot’ is kind of the point, isn’t it? Say hello to Spot!