I’d like to begin by stating the obvious. Chipmunks are adorable. It is impossible not to fall in immediate love with each one of them. However, my dearest love is a feisty three-inch tall beauty with long dark eyelashes, who lives in a hollowing piece of wood. (My house is next to hers, and I can see her comings and goings from my back window.) She is young, independent, wild. Her life is full of bounty and blessings. She lives among clover, daisies, tall grasses and gigantic oak trees with enough acorns to last a hundred winters. I’ve often admired her lifestyle and wished I lived in her tiny house, complete with its vibrant moss-covered doorway.
Would a chipmunk look at me, observe my lifestyle, notice my comings and goings, and wonder what it would be like to live in my house? Apparently so. We began noticing “evidence” that a small animal had taken up residence in the garage. By day three of our noticing, we saw what looked like a grass nest peaking out from under the electric lawnmower. Upon further investigation, we realized there were 5 acorn tops inside the lawnmower bag attachment. Apparently the mysterious little animal had made the lawnmower bag into a tiny apartment. Only a chipmunk would do something so adorable, I thought!
The next morning, my dearest love was outback standing on the roof of her tiny chipmunk house yelling at the top of her lungs. I was surprised and alarmed. I’d never seen her so worked up. “What is it, Sweet Cheeks?” I asked. She continued to yell and I knew in my heart of hearts it was about the chipmunk apartment in the garage. I realized that whoever was in there was dear to Sweet Cheeks and probably trapped, but he’d made the best of the situation by gravitating to the most natural materials he could find (the grass stuck to the lawnmower blades, the soft mesh mower bag, the old acorns someone else had drug inside long ago). “OK, Sweet Cheeks, we’ll find him and we’ll make sure he gets back outside today.”
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Later that day my husband walked in and said, “Well it was definitely a chipmunk.” When he opened the garage door, he saw a tiny figure running around, under the cars, back toward the lawn mower, behind the snow shovels and finally—even though it was pouring rain—the little chipmunk ran outside to freedom. Thank goodness! I’m sure he was happy to leave his temporary chipmunk apartment inside the lawnmower bag. I’m sure he was relieved to be back outside among the oak trees and the daisies and his dearest love, Sweet Cheeks. I’m sure he felt more at home and more alive out among the clover and tall grass and the big raining sky. I wonder what he’s learned about how humans live? I wonder what we can learn from him?
—Angie Pierce Jennings, Prairiewoods hosted groups and hospitality coordinator