He sleeps under black sky at water's edge, and although I am sure he has a name, I do not know it.
He is timid and brave, meek and bold. Hopeful, yet wary. Contemplative, but rash.
He reminds me of me, and of all those around me, and of those around them. And it is for this reason that I am fond of him.
Though we do not speak the same language, we understand. We Know.
My New Friend stands perhaps eight or nine inches tall, and lives in a tree by a lake. And yet, with him I already share a kinship deeper than the Great Seas.
Sir Squirrel, whatever your name be, and wherever your nest may lay this night... Enjoy the peanuts.