The squirrel stretched along one of the gently rising branches and remained for about half an hour. Now and then it would open its eyes and look about, usually to check out one of the birds who came and went, and a few times it sat up to vigorously scratch at a flea. Most of the time, it just dozed while the leaves rustled and the light flickered.
I'm not sure if the squirrel saw me watching it from my window a dozen feet away, but it might have done. It appeared to be looking directly at me a few times. Local squirrels seldom have much fear of people, who feed them so frequently that we are probably seen by them as some fast variety of nut tree.
I think the squirrel might have remained napping in the tree through the entire hot part of the afternoon, had the guy next door not chosen to take his dog for a ride. As soon as the dog, excited at the prospect of an adventure, began bounding up and down the driveway while waiting for the car door to be opened, the squirrel woke and scrambled up the tree and leaped onto my roof. I heard it running toward the opposite corner of the house. Squirrels are not fond of dogs.
I suppose the squirrel has found some other tree in which to continue its nap. There's no shortage of trees around here. But I doubt it will find one so perfectly suited to napping as is my shady, moss-covered mulberry. Were I as small and agile as a squirrel, I wouldn't mind spending the afternoon in it myself.
