Author: Brad Roller
“Please do not touch the squirrels, especially the babies.” This was the message every student received via their email accounts and, like many others, I was almost positive this memo was a joke. I was walking to class the other day, when the squirrel alert became all too personal as I came across a tiny furry corpse. Unfortunately, I was too late. If I had been there sooner, what could I have done to help the little chap? Nothing! Yes, I would likely have done nothing because I was not going to babysit a squirrel for 3-4 hours so that I could then call DPS. I was told not to interfere in squirrelly business. But what is so terrible about helping our semi-arborous friends in need? DPS has us believing that helping a squirrel will endanger its life. The harmless and unassuming pup was likely orphaned, pitched down from its cozy twig fashioned nest with a hasty disregard from its mother. Why? Because it caught a fatal illness, that is, the forbidden human scent…
Or was it?
Let’s get real here, folks. It is common knowledge that animals find the human scent nurturing and without threat. Just look at the guy who lived with the bears. Not the guy the bears ate. Or the one that had his face ripped off… twice. You know, that other guy. And the Steve Irwin murder is an invalid argument because stingrays are just assholes. This sense of security animals feel when exposed to the human scent is probably due to our fair and ethical treatment of them over the past century.
“There is no evidence that proves human contact with baby squirrels is correlated with their abandonment,” says Professor Marvin A. Kawrn of the Environmental Studies Department. Now that this fallacy has been brought to our attention, what is the true motive of our College’s security office? Not to secure the safety of these deserted, innocent squirrels, to be sure! Some have proposed a more sinister aspiration: an underground squirrel trafficking ring. That’s right! These defenseless little tots are being used as slave labor in none other than our own unbelievably productive college farm. This site, on which delicious Dickinson fruits are grown, is where the seeds of squirrel oppression are sown.
At first this allegation may seem far-fetched, but let us look at the facts at hand. Walk outside your dorm and simply observe the behavior of your average campus squirrel. What you will notice is that squirrels, with their sharp yet supple claws, exhibit a unique and highly efficient ability to dig holes. A squirrel will dig 1,436,932 holes in its lifetime (squirellfacts.org). It is not hard to see why their abilities would be advantageous to farmers. These squirrels are pup-napped at a young age and forced to bury seeds so that we students have the luxury of a wide selection of freshly grown fruit. Next time you enter the caf, take a good look at the cart of fruits. I see a cart full of tiny broken hearts and dashed furry dreams. Sure this method is sustainable, but at what price Dickinson College? At what bushy-tailed price?