Mr. Beaver

Today I met one of my neighbors from down the road. I had seen his house and heard about his habits, but we had never met face to furry face until this morning.

He was out for an early morning swim and I was walking my dogs. I was amazed that such a chubby guy could move so gracefully in the water.

Truth be told, I think he was in trouble with Mrs. Beaver. He kept doing figure eights in the water, coming nearer and nearer to his front door. Then just when I thought he was about to go inside he would do and elaborate flip, twirl move and end up back in the middle of the pond.

It's my guess he was out gallivanting all night and was afraid to return home to face a wrathful wife. In an effort to improve his disheveled out-all-night appearance he twice waddled up the bank and tried to comb out his whiskers and smooth his fur. Alas, he never worked up the courage while I was there.

Although he tolerated me very reasonably from where I sat on the grass to watch his progress, he didn't appreciate Hazel's attempt at friendship. At least I think that's what he was saying when he would hiss and slap his tail at her as she chased him around the pond for all of 15 minutes.

We do have a few things in common, this neighbor and I. We both love to swim, we enjoy the quiet of the early morning near the pond and we both possess extra large front teeth. Here's to many more early morning meetings, Mr. Beaver. Keep up the good work!