The Legend of Rusty: Part 2
Now it was time to select music to weed by; head for Three Tree Bed and The Battle of Extraction. Appearing in concert today would be ZMayor & Z5GallonBuckets, Dan Hicks and The Hot Licks, with special guests Creeping Charlie and ZDandyLions.
As ZMayor approached, he noticed debris scattered at the base of the Hickory. No problem, HizBucketNess would make short work of it while weeding and gathering. He did not notice however the newly minted dreyless kid on the block, clinging to a branch and staring down at him.
Rusty believed HisWeedShip to be his only remaining relative, and so Rusty decided to descend. When ZMayor noticed HizTenWeekOldness, Rusty had just reached the bottom of the Hickory and made a beeline for HizBigSquirrelNess. As ZMayor tells it, Rusty offered a tiny claw bump before immediately scampering up HizHonorNess’ sleeve. Now, we digress.
When dressing for the Sciuridae family, ZMayor usually wore a checkered vest. As someone who carefully germinated, transplanted and nurtured generations of heirloom tomatoes each year, he had somehow also grown a distaste for watching these tomato wranglers do their high wire act while clenching his cherry tomato in their thieving little squirrel jaws. Also, ZMayor’s peach trees bore bushels of his favorite Georgia varietal, so it was not a peachy-producing problem. It was more of a peach pilfering problem.
HizNightmareNess would occasionally dream of campfires surrounded by members of the outlaw Sciuridae gang. In this recurring nightmare, the rogue rodent gangs would be laughing and regaling each other with tales of ZGiantSquirrel, who ranted and raved below as they performed their aerial vegetable and fruit-ladened acrobatics above. The Sciuridae family referred to the first day ZMayor’s prized peaches becoming ripe for squirrels as “NoPitsDay.”
ZMayor of course did not celebrate NoPits Day. Instead, HizGardenerShip walked around the pitiful warzone battlefield beneath his prize peach trees, having his own party; a pity-party.
Not long after though, he would be on his patio with a joint, pursuing a change of altitude. But there would be no pity-parties in the Three Tree Bed today.
Now as one of these peach-pilfering progeny was scampering up his Jack in the Box sleeve-shirt arm, HizBeelineNess served HizPerplexedNess adoption papers. With an hour and a half of weeding left on this morning’s task list, Rusty quickly found a comfortable pocket hideaway. Falling fast asleep, just below Jack the Box and centimeters from ZMayor’s heart.
ZMayor spent the next hour and a half weeding and contemplating the dilemma. He realized his stowaway was an orphan as he began connecting the early morning cacophonous dots to the Hickory debris he was cleaning up within Three Tree Bed.
Dammit, what now?
He would have to download the new squirrely software and reboot--no doubt. He reviewed his options:
1. Boot Rusty out of his pocket, and Mother Nature would take care of the rest.
2. Not do that.
An overnight stay was the choice. When ZMayor returned to the patio, he built Rusty a BnB, but Rusty had other ideas.
They included:
1. Hang close to ZMayor.
2. Hang close to ZMayor.
3. Suggest dinner.
For dinner, ZMayor had premium Non-GMO coconut, pecan, and almond clusters. He pulled out a large nug and shared. Rusty would then leave for a minute, go to his perch on a rolled-up patio carpet, and enjoy himself while contemplating his next trip to the kitchen. He did spend the night.
It so happened that the following afternoon, several of ZMayor’s inner Budsburg circle were scheduled for a gathering at ZRanch.
ZMayor’s friends were surprised when Rusty joined the party. Never had they known HizCheckeredVestNess to hang with a NoPitter! Luckily, Rusty’s social game trended well with ZMayor’s buds. You might say they even witnessed the piercing of the Tomato-wrangler veil by ZMayor’s newfound buddy. They remarked at HizRaproachmentShips unexpectedly welcoming warmth for a farmer foe.
All was fun and grains for the next several days with R & Z. But from everything ZMayor read, he knew it would soon be time to part ways. So, HizInstructorNess tutored the young man in security. Rusty would lay wrapped in a towel in a live trap ZMayor brought to the patio and
listen intently as HizHickoryNutness repeatedly warned against such contraptions. While perched on ZMayor, Rusty would sometimes get exhausted by HizPerseveration’s lectures on tomato rights and peach pity-parties. A few days later, it was time for individuation exercises.
Here ZMayor would present him with an opportunity to “Lewis-and-Clark-it,” if you will. It went reasonably well.
Then a few days later, Rusty declared he was ready—or not. He chose to make the Maple just off the patio his halfway tree. For the next several days ZMayor would go to the end of the patio and give a Rusty shout-out to check on him. Moments later, Rusty would scramble down the Maple. HizMissingHimNess would offer a large Nug to HisRustyNess and chat as Rusty munched. This newly independent orphan was poised at the intersection of Dray and Scurry, just a Stoner’s Throw from Budsburg--Home of 50,000 Friendly Tokes. Soon, HisWanderLustNess Rusty ventured out and explored ZRanch; for a while ZMayor would occasionally notice him perched on a bump on his halfway tree, surveying his future kingdom.
A month or two later, ZMayor saw his former-foe peeking around the bark of another Maple growing near the curb next to the driveway. Delighted for the brief reunion HizFarmerNess rolled down the Jeep window and discussed the new life they both now enjoyed. They agreed—the new one was better—being buds.
