Polly Immigrant Story – Conclusion

Polly says hello again. Hope you have enjoyed my two previous stories (Start Here) (Part 2 Here) as much as I have enjoyed digging out the old pictures and writing about them. I ended my last story by saying life stinks. This would be the place to explain there is a couple meanings to the word stink. I meant it to say I was not living the good life anymore. But there is another stink I feel I should mention here. The kind that I discovered with my nose.

There is a huge kiwi vine beside the railing that I sit on. One of my jobs has been to be the KIWI tester. I tell the old lady when they are just right to pick. I was sitting there “nibbling and testing” a kiwi when here came a bunch of illegal immigrants. I had to protect the old Lady’s kiwi’s. My adrenalin kicked in and I landed right in the middle of one illegal. Surprise, surprise he didn’t fight at all. He made himself into a ball. No head, feet or a thing, and man did he stink. Their defense is to play dead and smell like the worst spoiled, decayed meat that even a vulture would not touch. I backed off and headed for a bath. I had a date with Big Red but he dumped me. Now my life stinks and so do I.

I do like these Kiwi
I do like these Kiwi
Old Lady showing off her Kiwi
Old Lady showing off her Kiwi

Blacky still has not brought any acorns. He eats from my seed dish and even has started to dig up the food I buried. I had such faith in him. What was I thinking? My life was already about as good as it gets with the old lady feeding me. Sure I had to work some but not half as hard as spending all day trying to find enough food to get by on. I lay on the sill at the kitchen door and only let the cats in and out. I am worried about Frosty because I heard them saying Old Whity didn’t sign up for Blacycare and she cant get hospice coverage because of her age. That’s not nice to talk that way about little frosty who was born right in this house. She deserves hospice care if anyone does.

Blacky...Get out of my seed dish!
Blacky...Get out of my seed dish!
Blacky digging up the yard
Blacky digging up the yard. I just planted that there.
Hi Frosty it's ok you can come in
Hi Frosty it's ok you can come in

I don’t see any little sparrows flying around at all anymore. The tree in front yard by the feeder used to be full of them. I decided to make a quick trip to the old bird feeder where it all started and a bird about twice as big as a sparrow was there. It was black with a pretty red wing. I thought it must be a red winged blackbird. I said “Hi I am Polly the resident squirrel, who are you?” Well you better be sitting down when you read this because I fell off the feeder at that point. She said “Oh I am an Acorn”. Can you imagine a pretty bird calling herself a NUT? I knew I was dealing with a Crazy Lady but I climbed back up to eat with her. I said no you are not an Acorn, you’re a bird. That’s when she told me that the Possums and Raccoons were Acorns too. My life had really got crazy. I admit they were all acting like NUTS, coming in here eating my food, taking over my possessions and I didn’t understand the situation we squirrels had gotten into when we fell for Blacky’s line that he had brought a lot of acorns and our lives would be better. The Acorn raccoons were the worst as far as danger went because they were all over the plant racks where we squirrels always played, and now was even stealing the cats food, one handful at a time. They will eat birds, squirrels, even cats and steal our food too. They have to go.
I tried to talk to Blacky but he would not listen to what we fellow squirrels had to say. I let him know what I thought about Illegal Immigrants who were also called Acorns, who were also his helpers. I told him we squirrels were going to get a bunch of Pit Bulls to clear out the illegals but he said he would take care of it. He said he would station an Official Immigration Agent on the bird feeder and on the roof of the rental house.

Talking with the blackbird
Talking with the blackbird
Hey get out the cat food!
Hey get out of the cat food!
These Racoons are scary
These Racoons are scary
Well.. I admit this Racoon is kida cute
How's the hope and change workin for ya?

How stupid can a community organizer get? His Immigration agent was a Hawk or Falcon or some darn thing that we were all afraid of, even his red winged Acorns could not eat there. This agent will eat squirrels and all birds so what on earth was he thinking? Even Blacky is about to be ran out of here. That agent will turn on him if it gets hungry and for sure the Old Lady is not putting anymore food out for anyone. Haven’t seen the blonde peace keeper acorn(possum) for days. She must be on a fact finding mission in another yard.

Official Immigration Agent
Official Immigration Agent

Just when you think it cant get worse, it does. Talulu, Frosty and I were in the old lady’s house (I pass out in the food storage section) when we heard shouts, we are the 99%. We are the occupiers and right across the street from the old lady’s house comes this huge flock of geese(don’t think they are acorns). Once they cross the street it will be the beginning of the end I am afraid. We were huddled with the old lady and a knock came at the kitchen door. An illegal immigrant who said his name was Phil, said “how is the hope and change, workin’ for ya?” The old lady fainted. I decided to go sit out on the garbage can and check out the alley because our escape would have to be that way if we decide to run for the hills. Life is different.

Flock of Geese I hope they don't come over here.
Flock of Geese I hope they don't come over here.
I'm going to check out the alley
I'm going to check out the alley

Seriously it has been a good life for all of us, I am 6 years old, Frosty is 22, Talulu 16 and the old lady is 88. When you look at it like that, we are all on borrowed time. We are just going to live the good life in the kitchen because the old lady says that as long as her social security check keeps coming none of us will starve. Thank God for the Old Lady in the big house, she has made my life soooooooo good, and I think I have made her life soooooooo good too. Polly.

Don’t worry Polly, it will be OK
Don’t worry Polly, it will be OK

No words can describe what it is like to be loved by a squirrel. Lots of them will grab a nut from your hand but Polly was a one of a kind experience. She would run to greet me at the alley gate. She would come scratch on the kitchen door. On a sad note, she has not came to my kitchen door for several weeks. She may be on an extended maternity leave but she may be waiting for me on the rainbow bridge with my kitties. I miss her a lot. The old lady.

This is the end of the Polly stories.

Having lived in Seattle (Georgetown) for over 80 years, Lilly has a passion for the area. A true Seattleite, Lilly has the history & experience to discuss any topic. Being retired, she enjoys visiting with her many grand children, gardening, and writing.

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