To Be, Or Not To Be,.....

Yes, I believe it's possible for a squirrel to like Shakespeare and to deliver a soliloquy if desired. Keep in mind, though, that I was raised by a small stuffed kangaroo named Oliver Hoppy so I believe many things are possible.

My mother was responsible for Oliver. In her hands he became a puppet of learned teachings, I suspect she felt more comfortable using him as a go-between when those teachings were complicated or difficult, or it was just more fun. Oliver taught me manners, how to be empathetic, sympathetic and curious. What he didn't cover his mother, Mrs. Hoppy, took care of.

They were a spectacular pair -- she was about one foot tall, made of white plush and red corduroy. Oliver, all white plush with shoe-button eyes, nestled in her pouch. My mother's talent turned them both into real, live participants in my life. Believe it or not, I still have them both. Mrs. Hoppy isn't looking bad at all for her age, which is somewhere around 70. Oliver, however, is minus all of his plush and is now a tatty grey color. Somewhere in the distant past his ears and eyes were replaced. His nose is disgusting, having been kissed into oblivion and is, I think, permanently wet and probably a festival of germs.

I can't begin to tell you how I got to this story from a squirrel blip. It's probably better if I don't try.