I Was Attacked by an Eastern Gray Squirrel

The following story is pretty much true.

Today, on my way to work, I was confronted by a conflicted, conifer-dwelling Eastern Gray Squirrel.

Keep in mind, when I say "attacked," I don't mean physically, and I certainly don't mean emotionally. I mean that my soul was raped.

This was no ordinary Eastern Gray Squirrel - this was Chauncey. Chauncey and I met in high school, where I used to feed him vinegar gravy fries in the courtyard. The school didn't sell vinegar gravy fries, so I was left with two options: Lose one of my closest friends, or smuggle in my own bottle of vinegar and my mother's brown gravy.

Knowing my luck now how it was then, which was the same luck then as I figured it would be now as back then, my mother stopped making brown gravy. I was left with two options: Lose one of my closest friends, or learn to make gravy. "Well," I said, "I've decided I'm going to learn how to make gravy."

The gravy wasn't good, at least, it was nowhere near the quality of mom's gravy. I guess this is why Chauncey found me today, and tried to rape me.