The kids discovered a very tame little squirrel in the garden yesterday chilling out near the shed.
It was clear from the fact that we managed to mow the lawn and eat dinner outside without him running away that he was either remarkably friendly or on his way to squirrel heaven.
“I didn’t want him to die”
Explaining death to kids is never easy.
We ended up with the usual cop out explanation of him having had a good life and going to a better place.
But how do we know?
He might have had a crap life. Perhaps his squirrel girlfriend kicked him out and he died of a broken heart? Perhaps it was foul play and one of our neighbours poisoned the nuts? And considering I don’t believe in Heaven our child friendly explanation is a bit of an easy way of getting out of a difficult conversation. Feeling rather annoyed with myself we planned a little funeral.
we buried him on the edge of the downs where the poppies grow.
“Let’s call him Happy”
(or so we hope)