Squirrel and Toad

The brown squirrel moved her tiny paws up to her face and rubbed her face.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you” a low, croaky voice from behind her said.

She turned around, and saw two large eyes like globs of jelly looking right at her. It was the large toad. The squirrel chirruped a laugh. She had always found toads to look absolutely ridiculous, what with their grotesquely bloated bodies covered in strange bumps, and their tiny front legs that look like pathetic stumps when compared to their green bulk. It was always hard to take them seriously, though the brown squirrel knew that toad was supposed to be very wise, if not also cruel, so she remained where she was.

“That is a trap," the voice continued. "I saw the man lay it down there not more than three days ago.”

“Now that is ridiculous, toad. Why would anyone want to trap a squirrel?”

“I had always found that squirrels could be both flighty and dense at the same time. You appear to me no exception. It’s not meant to trap you, though it will, if you get to close.”

The brown squirrel pondered this. The food did look delicious, but the more she thought about it, the more it did seem a bit unusual that food like this would appear out of the blue. For one thing, peaches were very unusual in these parts, and really only grew in the man’s orchard. The other thing was that, from the squirrel’s own experience, food was not usually found sliced and laid out on a brass plate, as though it were an offering to some god of the forest. No, the toad was right. This was a trap.

“Who is it meant to catch?” the brown squirrel asked.

“One of the rabbits, I believe,” the toad croaked.

That made sense to the squirrel. She had never heard of the man eating a squirrel before. Even toad was safe from the man. The ones at real risk were the rabbits and the ducks. For her part, she had never much minded the man. She was far more concerned with hawks. But something was troubling the brown squirrel. She thought back to all those times when the man had left his cabin to hunt the rabbits or the ducks. On those occasions, he had always been accompanied by that traitorous hound, (all animals had a profound dislike for the dog) which walked alongside the man, and would run into the tall grass to flush out the birds or the rabbits for the man to shoot. But this was different. This was a dish on the ground with peaches on it. Did rabbits even eat peaches?

“Hey toad, do rabbits even eat peaches?”

“What? You will have to speak up, my ears are just tiny holes in my head.” The
squirrel chirruped at this. She repeated her question.

“The rabbits. Do they eat peaches?”

The toad seemed to think about this. Presently, a flap of skin crossed over his jelly-eyes, and then they disappeared into his head. A second later, they re-emerged and the toad spoke.

“I...don’t know. Do you think I am an expert in rabbit food preferences? Honestly, I don’t know how you eat that stuff anyways.” He sounded angry, and fixed her with a glare.

“Oh, and I suppose flies and grasshoppers are much better?” the brown squirrel started.

“Indeed they are.”

“Have you ever seen yourself eat? It’s disgusting. Your mouth looks like its unhinged, and you never seem to get all your food in your mouth. There is always a leg or something hanging out. I honestly think I can hear you getting fatter, its completely disg—“

A shadow passed over the sun, and sharp talons gripped the brown squirrel. She was lifted high into the air, propelled by the mighty wings of a hawk.

The toad’s tongue flew out of his mouth, and grabbed a fly lazily buzzing over a peach slice.