The Critter Getters

By Kierin

The scratching sound started on the far north corner of the roof. Slowly it traveled up the incline to the peak. Pause. Then faster, louder down the opposite slope. And then up, over, and down again. And again. And again. And again.

Ben lifted his head slightly off the soft feather pillow and squinted out the window. Hints of orange and pink on the otherwise gray horizon signaled that dawn was just breaking. He pushed back the covers and got up, a frown creasing his face. This was the third day in a row he’d been awakened by the clawing sound and that was three days too many. A man could not be expected to run a ranch without a proper night’s rest.

Added to that was the fact that two nights ago something mysterious had chewed on some of the tack Little Joe had left on the floor of the barn. Hoss thought it was mice, but Ben thought it looked like it was something with much bigger teeth, even though he couldn’t explain how such an animal could have gotten into the barn, for they closed it up securely at night.

As he stepped into the main room still buttoning his shirt, he was surprised to find Adam sitting at the table sipping from a coffee cup. Over in the kitchen Hop Sing was mixing batter that would probably soon be flapjacks. The scratching sound had stopped for the time being. Ben raised his eyebrows at his eldest son as he tucked in his shirttail and sat down across from him at the table.

"I keep having nightmares that I’m being clawed to death," Adam stated evenly.

So he’d heard it too, Ben thought. "Our roof seems to have become some sort of throughway of late."

Adam sleepily rubbed his left eye and yawned. "It’s a squirrel," he said after another sip of coffee. "I’ve seen it on the roof during the day. It climbs the tree by the barn then leaps across to the house. It’s a little amazing actually."

There were several creatures Ben Cartwright felt a special affinity for. Squirrels were not one of them. He eyed his rifle resting in one corner of the room. Woe to the squirrel who woke up the Cartwrights. "That squirrel has just spent his last night dancing across our roof," he resolved.

Adam got a curious smile on his face. He knew how his father felt about squirrels, or any animal that didn’t earn its keep on the ranch, but all the recent hunting he’d been doing had taught him many things - among them the fact that squirrels were a lot smarter than their tiny heads made it appear. And this one must have a bit more intelligence than some of its cousins, for it’d managed to escape being a Cartwright meal for months now. Adam let the smile fall from his face when he saw Pa looking at him.

"Is there something I should know?" Ben asked.

Adam only shook his head. He lifted his mug so it would cover his mouth. Suddenly he was looking forward to this day.

Without turning around, Hop Sing declared, "I have pot ready."

After assigning chores to his younger sons that would keep them away from the house, Ben headed back inside to get his rifle. He was part way across the room when he noticed Little Joe’s slingshot sticking out of the pocket of the boy’s jacket, which still hung from its peg. Ben had been quite handy with one of these when he was a boy, and he’d taught Little Joe how to use his. He decided he’d have a little fun in the process of ridding the ranch of the mini menace.

With the slingshot in his pocket, he walked several paces away from the house so he could get a good view of the roof. Pride still stirred in his heart when he beheld the sturdy structures he’d built by hand with help from his sons and some of the townsfolk. He didn’t think he’d ever want to live anywhere else.

There was no sign of an animal on the roof so Ben ambled around the yard, memories of boyhood escapades soaring quietly through his memory as he felt the slingshot in his back pocket. His mind wandered until his right boot descended upon an uneven place in the ground and he found himself tumbling inelegantly forward. His arms shot out and he caught himself, ending up on his hands and knees in the grass. He turned his head to see what had tripped him and could make out a little hole in the ground with an acorn right in the center of it. He heard a squeaking sound and looked farther behind him. There sat his adversary. Was that dirt on the animal’s paws?

Adam had said it was a squirrel but now that Ben was laying eyes on the critter he wasn’t so sure. He’d seen brown squirrels and gray squirrels in these parts, but this one seemed to be some odd mixture of the two, for the fur on its back was almost black while the fur on its belly was a soft, light brown. Its tail was especially bushy and Ben thought the animal seemed extra big for a squirrel. Of course maybe that was because he was on the ground. This squirrel looked to be several years old, for some of the fur on its back was a might sparse, as if it were balding.

The squirrel eyed Ben for a moment, let out another squeak, jumped in the air, then sprinted away on all fours. Ben sprung to his feet. There was no question in his mind that this was the squirrel that had been disturbing his sleep. After many years of raising sons, Ben knew how to recognize mischief in a person’s eyes. The squirrel wasn’t a person, but Ben was sure he’d seen devilment in those bright black pools all the same.

Where had it gone?

Ben slowly pulled the slingshot from his pocket. He walked cautiously and silently, like he did whenever he was hunting, his eyes roving. Finally he caught sight of the animal crouching by the side of the barn, almost blending into the wood. As he made his way toward it, the squirrel leapt onto the slender trunk of the nearby pine tree, scurried up it, and dropped onto the barn roof. Adam had been right; that giant flying jump from the barn to the roof of the house was pretty amazing. The squirrel squeaked again and looked down at Ben. Was there a challenge in that sound?

If there was, Ben was ready to accept. He aimed and pulled back the sling. Then, with a flush of embarrassment on his cheeks, he dropped it without force. He’d forgotten to gather rocks for ammunition.

Quickly, he scouted the yard for stones, dropping several into his pants pockets. All the while the squirrel calmly groomed itself on the roof of the house, but Ben noted that every time he glanced at the squirrel, those little black pools were staring back at him.

Armed with about half a dozen rocks, Ben positioned himself a short distance from the house and in direct line with the squirrel. The little creature flicked its tail as Ben raised the slingshot, loaded it with a rock, and pulled it back. Just as Ben was about to release the rock, the squirrel, emitting what sounded like a shriek, lunged across the roof, diverting Ben’s aim. The rock crashed through the back window. Oh he was so glad Hoss and Little Joe weren’t around to see this.

Ben ran his hand across his face. It was time to get the rifle.

By the time he’d retrieved and loaded the gun, the squirrel was no longer on the roof. Ben searched the yard and perimeter of the surrounding forests but found no squirrels. In fact the woods seemed eerily quiet. Finally he had to stop for a drink of water. He leaned the rifle against the corral fence. As he raised the bucket from the well, he heard a familiar squeaking sound behind him. There was the squirrel: right on the porch, just sitting there staring at him as if it were normal for squirrels to lounge on front porches. Ben knew it wasn’t his imagination - that squirrel had a sardonic smile on its face.

As Ben moved toward his rifle, the squirrel scurried up onto one of the beams supporting the porch and onto the roof again. Weapon in hand, Ben went around to the back of the house where he could get a better look. As he shaded his eyes from the morning sun, he realized something. That darn squirrel knew he wasn’t going to shoot at the house.

Something landed near his feet. As he stooped down to see what it was, another rock came flying out of the air and missed his head by nary an inch. Two pairs of dark eyes locked onto one another. Where had those rocks come from? Had that little varmint . . . nah . . . Maybe they’d just fallen out of his pocket. But rocks didn’t fall upwards.

Ben found himself wanting to have a serious talk with this squirrel - the same way he usually felt when one of his sons was acting up for no good reason. Yes, they’d eaten many of his cousins - but not necessarily because they’d wanted to. He had to give them that. They would have much rather had venison or turkey or grouse or rabbit or even beef if they’d been able to spare any of the herd. It was just that he had a lot of cousins - and some of them weren’t too bright. If he would just agree to stop scurrying about the roof at all hours of the night maybe they could work out some kind of . . . Ben shook the thoughts out of his head. He wasn’t going to rationalize about a squirrel. He glared up at the little critter. "You realize we’re having you for dinner, don’t you?" he called. The squirrel made no response and Ben didn’t think it looked as worried as it should have.

He didn’t know that a pair of blue eyes were watching him from between the barn and the house. Adam held the axe in his hand just in case Pa caught him looking and he needed to quickly pretend he was doing something constructive. The words Pa spoke to the squirrel nearly sent Adam into hysterics. He tightened his grip on the axe and pressed his lips together tightly, trying to keep himself in check.

For practice, Ben raised the rifle and aimed. Unconcerned, the squirrel whipped its tail back and forth like a moving target. They’d been here before. But Ben figured he had the upper hand this time, for he was holding a weapon from which no squirrel was safe. He just had to get the little varmint to a location where he could take a shot - one was all he’d need.

Just as the thought passed through his mind, in a pure acrobatic feat, the squirrel uttered an odd little chirp, took a running leap off the roof, twisted in the air, landed safely on its big, bushy tail, then raced like the devil into the nearby stand of pines. Still holding the rifle, Ben returned his eyes to their normal size and followed the squirrel into the forest.

He was just a few steps into the trees when he found himself suddenly sprawled on his stomach in the dirt, the rifle having flown from his hands and skidded to a stop not far away. He couldn’t breathe for a few seconds. When he was finally able to inhale, he almost said a couple words he’d have tanned the boys for saying. When he pushed himself onto his hands and knees his ankle hurt something fierce. He wasn’t at all surprised when he looked at where he’d tripped and found a small freshly dug hole with an acorn in the middle of it. The squirrel was nowhere in sight. It was a good thing. At that point Ben would have clobbered him with his bare hands.

As Ben limped out of the trees, he saw Adam standing by the barn with an axe in one hand. Surely that pile of wood Hoss had chopped yesterday would last a while. Adam needed to devote his time to another chore.

"Adam!" Ben called as he walked past his son as normally as he could. "I want you to take care of that squirrel. Use whatever method you want. Just take care of him."

Adam had to turn his head away to hide his grin. "Yes, Pa!" he called. Wait, was Pa limping? What could that squirrel possibly have done to him? Adam had to stifle a snicker at the thought.

He rammed the axe into the chopping block. This day was getting better and better. His mind was already working on a plan. Maybe he could use some of the physics he’d been reading about. Maybe he’d see if he could capture the smart little sucker.

Adam rummaged in the barn and the shed, gathering materials. With his hat pushed far back on his head and his tongue twisted into one cheek, he set to work constructing his invention on the floor of the barn. Pa looked at him funny but didn’t ask any questions when he came to tell him he was riding to town. As he saddled his horse Ben smiled reflectively at the remnants of a much younger Adam mirrored in the young man working so diligently on the floor.

Not long after Pa left, Adam’s creation was ready. He’d built a square cage with a little contraption inside. On one side of the seesaw-like lever was a small bowl. Adam planned to put seeds and acorns in there. The other side was attached to a sliding panel door. When the squirrel went into the cage and lifted the seeds and acorns from the bowl, the removal of the weight would cause the panel to slide down, successfully trapping the critter in the cage. Adam’s heart beat faster as he picked up the crate and carried it to the backyard.

It didn’t take long to gather some tempting squirrel food, and Adam thought to himself that it was no surprise so many squirrels seemed to take a liking to the Ponderosa. After loading the bowl with seeds and nuts, he set the cage near the tree he’d seen the squirrel climb to get onto the barn roof. Then he walked several paces away, to a low spot where he could lie down in the tall grass. He’d hidden here once from Little Joe while playing hide and go seek and he’d nearly fallen asleep before his little brother had found him. There was no way he was going to fall asleep this time. He couldn’t wait to see if the invention would work. He just hoped the squirrel was hungry. Now, where had the little guy gone?

He heard a squeak and looked up. There it was, sitting on a tree branch, looking down at him. Turned out the squirrel was better at hide and seek than Little Joe. Without thinking Adam said aloud, "There’s a nice little meal waiting for you over there." Afterwards, he pulled his lips into a frown and glanced left and right to make sure no one had heard him.

A brief staring contest ensued, and Adam found himself motioning toward the cage with his head. The squirrel gave him a disapproving chatter and stayed put. Eventually Adam decided he’d go chop some wood and try to look like his mind was on something else.

Even Adam was a little surprised that it worked. He glanced sideways as he set another chunk of wood on the chopping block. The squirrel had climbed out of the tree and approached to within a few feet of the cage. Adam split the chunk of wood with a loud crack and quickly looked back to make sure he hadn’t scared the critter away. The squirrel was right next to the cage now, sitting on the side opposite the door. "Looks kind of tasty, doesn’t it?" Adam whispered and then he silently scolded himself.

Pressing its body against the outside, the squirrel threaded a paw through the slats of the cage and quickly snatched a pawful of seeds from the bowl. It licked its paw clean and reached in again. The door didn’t fall, but it didn’t matter much because the sneaky little bandit was still on the outside anyway. Storm clouds gathered in Adam’s eyes.

Mumbling, he took two giant steps toward the cage, sending the squirrel tearing across the yard, a few seeds flying off it, the bushy tail held high. Adam hauled the cage back to the barn and used small bits of wood to close up the spaces between the slats so that not even a little squirrel arm could fit through. He re-rigged the door so it would fall more easily. With a rekindled fire in his eyes and an evil smirk on his face, he again placed the contraption near the squirrel’s favorite tree and wandered around between the barn and the house pretending to be occupied. No squirrel appeared.

About the time Adam was thinking maybe he’d done the job just by scaring the squirrel out of its wits, he heard a couple high-pitched peeps come out of the sky. He walked far enough away from the house to be able to get a good look at the roof. Sure enough, there was his nemesis, standing on the peak, flapping its tail and kneading its paws in the air as if it were doing a squirrel version of a dance of joy. Adam felt a burst of exasperation surge through him as his hands balled into fists and his shoulder muscles tightened. The little varmint was beginning to remind him of Little Joe on a bad day.

That’s when it happened. Adam wouldn’t have believed it if it hadn’t happened to him. With the same flying leap it used to jump from the barn to the house, the squirrel ran down the roof and lunged toward Adam. Before Adam could even think about ducking, a heavy ball of brown and black fur landed smack dab on top of his hat, squashing it down over his eyes. The squirrel jumped off and made a mad dash for the trees. Even with his hat over his ears, Adam could hear the little beast tittering all the way into the forest. This day wasn’t really turning out to be very pleasant at all.

"You’re going to regret that!" he vowed once he’d pried his hat off his head. His cheeks flushed a little with embarrassment and irritation. It was time for more primitive measures.

Hop Sing looked up from peeling carrots when Adam stormed into the house. "Have squirrel ready for pot yet?" he asked innocently. Adam uttered only an indistinct grumble in response. In any event some familiar scratching sounds on the roof soon answered the question. Hop Sing raised his eyebrows wordlessly and kept his mouth in its usual slack smile as he turned back to his cutting board. Taking much heavier steps than normal, Adam crossed to the far wall and retrieved his rifle. In a fleeting thought he wondered what had happened to the back window.

The squirrel wasn’t on the roof when he stepped back outside. He’d made three circles around the yard before he thought to glance at the cage he’d built. Amazingly, the door was down and his rival was trapped inside.

Any lingering anger quickly changed into excitement. His invention had worked! Adam knelt in front of the cage and checked to make sure the squirrel wasn’t playing some kind of trick. Nope, he was really trapped. Adam gave a whoop of delight that would have shocked his family had they heard it. Adam hardly ever let out his emotions that way. The squirrel shifted uneasily in the cage and harrumphed.

"I got you!" Adam didn’t even frown at himself for talking to a squirrel this time. He leaned the rifle against the back of the barn. He’d known all along he wasn’t going to shoot this animal; he’d gotten to know it too well. He’d just wanted to scare it a little, for surely it had heard stories from other squirrels of the horrible things that happened when the young man in the black hat and black pants came into the woods carrying his gun.

A quarter of an hour later, from atop the wagon seat, he looked back at the squirrel in the bed of the wagon. It was peering up from the cage and scowling at him. Adam couldn’t help smiling to himself. Maybe he could patent this. Maybe he’d call it the "Critter Getter." It occurred to him that he shouldn’t be quite so pleased about outthinking a squirrel, but he banished the thought from his mind and continued smiling. He drove a long time before he thought it was safe.

By the time he returned to the house, Hoss and Little Joe were back from the south pasture, eating a late lunch. Pa hadn’t yet returned from town. Adam fixed a cup of coffee while Hop Sing prepared a plate for him. Seeing the squirrel scamper into the dense forest up on Sawtooth Ridge had sent his spirits soaring. Apparently, it showed quite plainly on his face.

"What’re you grinnin’ like a coon about, brother?" asked Hoss as Adam sat in his usual chair at the table.

Adam quickly tried to make his face expressionless. He could tell by the inquisitive looks on his brothers’ faces that it didn’t work. It was best to tread carefully when talking to his brothers about furry animals. He decided on, "I’m just happy about finishing a chore Pa gave me."

Right after he said it, there was a scratching sound on the far north corner of the roof.

"Did you just hear that?" Hoss asked, furrowing his brow.

Unbelieving, Adam jumped to his feet and strode out of the house. He leaned back as he walked to where he could get a good view of the roof. The squirrel made a shrill chirping noise that Adam swore for the life of him sounded like a giggle. Adam’s astonished eyes locked onto the wee black ones. That was it. "Hoss! Little Joe! Pa wants you two to take care of this squirrel!"

Hoss and Joe had followed Adam out of the house. They looked at the squirrel and then at each other. What in the world could such a little critter have done to make Adam’s face look like that?

"I’ll finish up in the south pasture. You two get rid of that squirrel. Pa doesn’t want it on the roof anymore at night." With that, Adam trudged toward the barn, his lunch forgotten. Before pulling open the big wooden doors, he looked back at his brothers. "And you can not keep it as a pet. You have to get rid of it. There’s a cage in the shed you can use if you want to."

As they stood looking at the animal on the roof, Hoss and Little Joe reckoned this was one of the most interesting chores they’d been assigned in a long time. Hoss went inside to retrieve his plate. Never even having to glance at the spoon traveling back and forth from his plate to his mouth, he ate while he stared at the squirrel and thought things over. Little Joe stood next to him, awaiting word of his big brother’s plan. When he could take the silence no longer, he offered reluctantly, "I could get my slingshot."

"You reckon we gotta kill him?" asked Hoss, his eyes never leaving the little black ones on the roof.

Even though he and Pa had talked about it, Little Joe was still having trouble with the notion of killing cute forest animals, even if they had to in order to survive. They’d never had to hunt much in New Orleans. He really didn’t want to kill this little squirrel—he didn’t like how squirrel tasted anyway—and he could tell from that look in Hoss’s eyes that his big brother didn’t want to either.

"Adam never said we had to," remarked Little Joe. "He just said to get rid of him."

Hoss set his plate on the ground and called out suddenly, "Hey you up there!"

The squirrel chattered an indignant response and Hoss continued, "Now, Nutty, we need you to get down from there. Pa says you have to go and he makes the decisions ‘round here. I left you some cornbread here if you want it, but you better come get it quick or I’m gonna finish it."

"Nutty?"

"That’s his name," answered Hoss as if it were incomprehensible that Joe had to ask.

Nutty didn’t seem too interested in Hoss’s cornbread. He stayed put on the roof. "I’m getting the ladder," Little Joe said, taking a step toward the barn. Hoss grabbed him and quickly put a stop to that.

"No way, little brother. Pa’ll have my hide if he finds out I let you climb on the roof. ‘Sides I thought you was scared of heights."

"I ain’t scared!" Little Joe predictably responded. He heaved the sigh he usually uttered when he thought his older brothers were being spoilsports.

Up on the roof Nutty emitted several squeaks in an odd little pattern.

"He’s singing up there!" marveled Hoss. "He likes it here."

Even Little Joe had to be amazed at how quickly Hoss was charmed by animals. He decided to go to the shed to get a look at this cage Adam was talking about. "Look what Adam built, Hoss!" he called as he brought Adam’s invention over to his brother.

"Hey, I remember Adam building me a cage like that when I found a hurt rabbit in New Orleans. It didn’t have one of those thingamajiggers in the center though. Musn’ta worked ‘cause Adam sure didn’t look none too happy with Nutty."

"I bet we can get him to go in here," said Little Joe with the unadulterated confidence of a twelve-year-old.

"I bet we could at that, Joe. Maybe when Pa sees how cute he is, he’ll let us keep him." Even Hoss didn’t believe the words and they’d come out of his mouth. "Let’s gather up some more acorns for him and maybe he’ll come down."

The boys walked across the yard. It was the opportunity Nutty had been waiting for. He performed his daredevil leap off the house and shot like a bullet for the plate on the ground. He grabbed the cornbread, stuffed it in his mouth, and kept on running, his little cheeks bulging. He was past the barn before Hoss and Little Joe noticed him.

"There he goes!" yelled Joe.

They never made a conscious decision to chase him. It just sort of happened.

Little Joe made for the right side of the barn while Hoss went to the left. As they came around the back they both saw Nutty heading into the woods and with matching shouts, they took off after him. It wasn’t hard to follow him, for his big tail made him easy to see as he galloped across the ground. He even seemed to be twitching that tail some, as if waving a flag, beckoning the boys to give him a little chase. He didn’t head up a tree either, for that would mean the game might come to an end. His occasional squeaks resembled cries of merriment that might be emitted by a child playing tag. Hoss and Little Joe didn’t notice. They weren’t thinking about much of anything except: Get that squirrel!

Dodging trunks and heavy patches of brush the boys sprinted through the trees, Hoss in front with Little Joe not far behind him. Little Joe had spent enough years chasing after his big brothers to have become a capable, fast runner, and it was only Hoss’s longer legs that gave him a slight advantage. The heavy pounding of their boots echoed like drum beats throughout the forest, and more than one bird flew squawking and flapping into the air after catching sight of the rampaging humans. The squirrel vaulted over a fallen log and moments later Hoss and Little Joe sailed over it too. The squirrel bounced off a tree and veered to the left. Arms flailing and nearly toppling over as they made the sharp turn, Hoss and Little Joe managed to veer left as well. Moments later the squirrel took a hard right and the boys ran past him. They quickly noticed they’d lost him and came to an abrupt halt. The squirrel gave them a helpful squeak and Little Joe’s head flew in that direction. "There he is! Get him!" he yelled with total exhilaration. The chase resumed.

They never saw the scraggly tree root sticking two inches out of the earth. Hoss stepped right on it and stumbled, causing him to fall sideways and smack into the large trunk of a Ponderosa pine. Little Joe caught it with the toe of one of his boots. In a move not unlike one his father had performed earlier that day he flew unceremoniously forward but managed to get his arms out in time to catch himself and wind up on his hands and knees in the dirt. The boys moaned in unison. The squirrel tittered the way he had after he’d landed on Adam’s hat.

Rubbing his cheek and breathing heavily Hoss dragged himself to a nearby log and put his head between his knees like Pa had taught him. Little Joe picked himself up off the ground then dropped down next to Hoss and stretched out with his body twisted so that his torso was resting on the log and his legs were hanging off. A couple minutes passed before either had recovered his breath enough to speak. Finally, Little Joe managed, "I don’t think . . . we’re going to catch him."

They had no idea that the squirrel was directly underneath them, hiding inside the hollowed out log, still twitching that beacon of a tail and chewing the last of his cornbread. When he heard the smaller of the two humans speak from above, he sent up one of the loudest squeaks of his life, which was echoed and amplified in the caverns of the half-rotted log. A startled Hoss fell backwards right off the tree trunk, and Little Joe yelped and leapt to his feet. The squirrel made a run for it. When he realized that neither of the boys was giving chase he stopped and looked back at them with a little bit of sadness in his beady eyes. The smaller one was leaning over the bigger one. They hadn’t even noticed him.

It took Hoss and Little Joe a long time to walk back to the house, tired as they were. When they came out of the trees and into the clearing of the yard they couldn’t believe what they saw: There was Nutty, securely locked in the cage Adam had built. There wasn’t even any food missing from the bowl. It was as if the squirrel had taken pity on the boys and decided to capture himself.

"We got him!" yelled Little Joe. Hoss decided not to mention the fact that they’d really had nothing to do with it.

As Ben rode up to the barn a few minutes later he saw his two youngest sons crouched over what appeared to be a little cage. They hadn’t noticed his arrival. He slid quietly from his horse and tied the reins to the hitching rail.

"Sorry you have to be in that cage, Nutty, but Pa says you can’t live ‘round here no more," Hoss was saying in the same voice he used to explain things to Little Joe. "It ain’t safe anyway."

Ben watched them from beside the barn. Nutty? Oh no, they’d named it.

"Boys?" Ben called.

"Look, Pa. We caught that squirrel that’s been on the roof," explained Little Joe with obvious pride. Again Hoss decided not to mention their minimal role.

Ben squatted and looked at the little animal that had caused him so much trouble that morning. Nutty wiggled his nose and tried to look cute.

"What’s going on?" asked Adam as he rode up on Beauty.

"We got Nutty, Adam, just like you told us to," said Hoss. Adam’s eyes slid in Pa’s direction and an understanding expression overtook Ben’s face.

"Nutty?" he asked.

"That’s his name, Pa."

Ben and Adam’s eyes met again.

Hop Sing walked out of the house to find out what they were all looking at. "Ah, good," he said, "we have squirrel stew for dinner tonight."

Hoss and Little Joe were too stunned to speak. Before they could protest, Hop Sing had turned and headed back into the house.

Little Joe moved toward Pa. "Please don’t make us eat him, Pa. Please! He’s a good squirrel and real smart."

A light blazed up in Ben’s eyes. They didn’t know the half of it. "Oh really?"

Hoss tried, "He’s old, too. Look at how the fur on his back is shedding. Bet the meat would be real tough."

"Pa, do we have to eat him?" Little Joe’s eyes glistened with unshed tears and Hoss didn’t look much better.

Before Ben could answer Hoss jumped in again, "Maybe we could take him somewhere else. Find him a new home so’s he won’t get on the roof no more."

"It’s not going to work. Nutty’ll just come back," remarked Adam. Oh no, had he really just called the squirrel "Nutty"?

"We’ll take him for a ride after supper. He better not come back, though. This is his last chance."

"Thanks, Pa!" shouted Little Joe. Hoss gave Pa a radiant smile and leaned in to talk to Nutty.

"I’ll go tell Hop Sing we’ll be having, um . . . carrot stew for supper," said Ben. He’d taken three steps when it happened again. One of his boots hit an uneven spot and he ended up stumbling forward. In the next moment he found himself face down in the grass. He was sure glad he hadn’t unpacked the precious panel of glass from his saddlebags yet.

Without even looking, he reached toward the spot where he’d tripped and grabbed something. The boys’ eyes grew wide. Pa was holding up an acorn. Surely Nutty was doomed.

Despite the unpleasantness of sitting there on the ground with his ankle throbbing dully, the corners of Ben’s mouth turned up. He had to have respect for such a worthy opponent, especially one that could lick all four Cartwrights.

The boys couldn’t believe how cheerful Pa’s voice sounded when he said, "Put Nutty in the wagon, Hoss. We’ll take him up to Sawtooth Ridge after supper."

Adam opened his mouth to comment but then thought better of it. He’d just let them find out on their own.

Right on time the next morning the scratching sound started on the far north corner of the roof. Ben rolled over onto his back and looked at the ceiling. Well at least he was consistent – and a darn good tracker.

"Nutty seems to be back," Ben observed when Hoss and Little Joe came out of their bedroom, their hair sticking up all over the place.

"Told you," said Adam from across the table. Both his brothers shot him a glare, but the vinegar was taken out of the looks by the comical appearances the boys presented with their wild hairdos, and Adam could not prevent a grin from overtaking his lips. He held up his cup to hide it.

"That sound doesn’t bother me at all," replied Little Joe assuredly, looking back and forth between Adam and Pa. "I kinda like it."

"Yeah, I’m used to it. I just sleep right through it."

Adam began to comment on Hoss’s ability to sleep through a hurricane but stopped when he saw the look on Pa’s face. Was it possible that Pa was buying this? Why was he smiling softly like that? He could scarcely believe it when he heard him say, "I guess it’s not really that bad."

As if he had heard him, Nutty sprinted up and down the roof a couple times, his claws clicking and scraping even louder than usual. They could faintly hear him squeaking in that odd little rhythm he seemed to like.

That must have been about the time Nutty jumped onto the chimney. As good a jumper as he was, he must have overshot this one a little. He went right through the hole.

They heard him coming all the way down. Still, none of them was prepared for the sight of a big squirrel shooting out of the chimney like a ball out of a cannon. They all froze, their mouths hanging open, their eyes like full moons. The room was silent for a moment. Was it possible that that had really just happened?

He landed on the hearth and rolled over once. Soot-covered and ruffled, he looked even more shocked than the Cartwrights. For a while, he just stood there, as if trying to process what had happened. He stood there too long. His tail ignited.

That’s when he started to run. He became nothing more than a streak of brown bolting across the house, squeaking like he had never squeaked before. Under the table, into the boys’ bedroom, up on Little Joe’s bunk, over to Adam’s bunk, off the wall, back into the living room, into the kitchen, across the top of the table, into Ben’s bedroom and right back out. A trail of soot and smoke billowed out behind him, and the unforgettable odor of singed fur permeated the house. Having practiced this, Hoss and Little Joe were the first ones to start chasing him. Unfortunately that only made him more frantic. The chair in the corner overturned. Three pots Hop Sing had hung on the wall clattered onto the floor. All the breakfast dishes went flying off the table. The spice rack was knocked crooked. The pile of wood by the fireplace scattered loudly across the floor.

"Open the door! Open the door! Open the door!" yelled Ben. If he hadn’t still been half in shock, he might have done it himself. Adam was the first to get the message. He lunged for the door and yanked it open. Nutty charged toward it.

As Hop Sing neared the porch, carrying a basket of eggs and wondering what all the commotion was inside the house, a smoking squirrel came barreling out the front door, followed closely by Ben and the boys. The squirrel missed Hop Sing’s legs only by a last-second sideways dodge, and with a spasm of pure surprise, Hop Sing tossed the egg basket into the air. The Cartwrights couldn’t stop themselves in time. They scrambled the eggs with their boots as they kept on running.

As he’d proved on numerous previous occasions, Nutty was no dummy. He headed straight for the water trough and dived in. He went under. Just about the time Hoss made a move to save him from drowning, he came to the surface, scrambled out, and, with water spraying off him, ran as fast as he ever had for the shelter of the forest.

Ben, Adam, Hoss, and Little Joe stood for a long time, watching the spot where Nutty had disappeared into the trees. Hoss was the first to let out a soft snort. That was all it took. He, Adam, Pa, and Little Joe broke into wild, hysterical laughter. Hoss and Little Joe ended up on the ground clutching their sides, they were laughing so hard. Adam and Ben had to hold each other up. Hop Sing could only shake his head - apparently the Cartwrights had gone completely loco.

"You know," said Adam when he was finally able to pull himself together, "I don’t think we have to worry about Nutty getting on the roof anymore."

He could not have been more right.