This morning’s meandering was short and sweet. First of all … yesterday, my repertoire of weather folks all predicted a dismal day for today, from start to finish. But, when I got up this morning, the weather report was just clouds until mid-day when the dreary drizzly conditions would commence. Great, nothing to rain on my parade, so I got all suited up, and dressed to go, remembering to wear my raggedy coat with the huge pockets and to tuck a Ziploc pack of fresh peanuts inside. Out I went. However, a quick glance at the dark sky told me that a trip to Council Point Park might not be in the cards today – it is, after all, 3/4s of a mile one way. So, I headed over to Ford Park, a few blocks away, to walk in the neighborhood instead. Midway through the first loop, in my peripheral vision, I saw a chunky-looking squirrel trying to scale a large tree. I watched him as I walked along, then he took a flying leap and landed on a birdfeeder. Nice work! But what about the bevy of birds who lined up along the split-rail fence waiting for him to feast then leave? You little piglet! I kept walking. I felt something wet land on my nose and hoped it was precip from a leafy maple tree overhead. I was, of course, at the opposite end of the Park, but hey – I guess I’m not made of sugar and won’t melt, though I don’t really like traipsing around in the rain. Soon, a few more drops plopped down on my head and I looked up at the sky, as if to beseech the rain gods to stop it already. In looking up, I noticed another chubby squirrel, tiptoeing along an electrical wire with about as much precision as Nik Wallenda had in his recent high-wire feat. He scrambled along, stopping every few feet to pause and look down. Then he went on a few more feet, and stopped again. Was he scared of falling? No, but I figured it out. Mr. Squirrel was up in the proverbial catbird seat, watching for “his human”, an older gentleman, clad in a flannel shirt and jeans, who trudged out of the warm house, a narrow red plastic scoop in hand, and dutifully dumped its contents into a wooden box mounted on a tree. Then, his benefactor walked slowly back into the house, and that squirrel swiftly crossed the wire, scrambled down a nearby tree and up another tree to access this wooden device. My interest was piqued, and, as I approached the dispenser, which hung on the side of a tree, I noticed it had a Plexiglas front and a small trough which dispensed nuts, much like a gumball machine. These were not raw peanuts in the shell, but cocktail peanuts. Geez, and I thought I was a nice human giving the Park squirrels unsalted raw peanuts so that they did not get excessive sodium in their diet. Guess I was sadly mistaken, huh? Nice to know others cannot resist that fuzzy face and tail swishing … yup, they capture your heart, glean goodies and then proceed to drain your pocketbook with that plaintive face and sweet antics.