I thought it was love.

He thought I was dinner.

I’d been nurturing a friendship with the little beastie for several weeks. Leaving food out, little tidbits of apple, pear and sometimes banana. Chestnuts if they were available, sometimes walnuts or brazils.

Gradually we began to move closer together until the day that I sat in the forest and he took from my hand. We kept this up for two weeks.

I would generally bring my lunch down and my sketchbook.  I’d eat and draw, and he’d sneak closer and grab whatever I’d left down. This would happen several times over a couple of hours.

The day came when he climbed into my lap and then the day that after eating out of my hand, in my lap he stayed for a nap. We were buddies. We were pals.

Then I thought this was going so well, I’d try offering…