Corona Diary: Day 5

Yesterday, Goose found a squirrel. We think it was dead when he found it, but since Goose is a cat, this is by no means a certainty.

What was certain was that we suddenly had to deal with a dead squirrel.

Sue’s immediate solution was to put it in the brown recycling bin. After all, she reasoned, the brown bin is for garden waste, and the squirrel had been wasted in the garden…

Naturally, she didn’t mention this to me until this morning when she suddenly began to panic that the binmen would be unlikely to empty a bin if its sole contents consisted of squirrel.

I asked her what she wanted me to do about it. She suggested putting the squirrel in someone else’s bin.

I’m not sure where putting a squirrel in someone else’s bin falls on the scale of neighbourly behaviour. My guess is aggressive. It’s certainly not how I’d like to treat our elderly neighbours, Brian and Elizabeth, who are delightful. I figured I’d put it in a bin further down the street instead.

Of course, in a world where no-one is going outside, as soon as I started down the street a man came round the corner walking a dog. I scooted back to the garage, and tried to pretend I was socially distancing myself.

When he was gone, I’d rather lost my nerve for scouting further afield. I looked in Brian and Elizabeth’s bin. It was full to the brim.

It was then I hit on my brainwave. Rather than donating a squirrel, I could steal their grass-cuttings. On the scale of neighbourly behaviour, somehome theft was coming out as friendlier then giving out presents. I quickly grabbed some of the foliage and started transferring it to our bin, keeping an eye out for further dog walkers. I stopped once I could no longer see squirrel and went inside to wait.

When you’re waiting for the bin men to come, they seem to take ages. When you’re lying in bed, trying to pretend you haven’t woken up so you don’t have to step out into the cold, its incredible how punctual they are. On this occasion, it was several hours before I heard the whine of an approaching lorry. The excitement was palpable. We all hid inside, peering out through the blinds.

Eventually, the lorry drove away and we left inside in silence and anticipation.

When I went out to check, the squirrel was gone.