The squirrel whisperer

I'll admit it. Since the close results of last Tuesday's presidential election, I've had only one thing on my mind. It eats away at me like a deadly bacteria, and I can't let it go. There's a question that I can't stop asking myself. Some say I should just move on, but I just have to bring it up.\nThe thing is, there are a lot of fat squirrels on campus. With all that extra weight slowing them down, could I potentially catch one?\nI hope I'm not alone in having these thoughts. I know you've seen the fat squirrels too. I realize they're only fulfilling their roles as small woodland creatures by preparing for hibernation, but every time one scurries past in all its cute fuzziness, I have the urge to catch it.\nAre these urges abnormal? I sense only a trained professional in the field of psychology could answer that question. But don't judge me. Can you honestly tell me that when a squirrel looks up at you with its big brown eyes and bushy tail, you've never thought about trying to pet it?\nNow, I know you aren't supposed to keep squirrels as pets. I'm not sure who made this rule, but rules were meant to be broken. If everyone followed the rules we would never have such revolutionary innovations as rock and roll or microwavable macaroni & cheese.\nBesides, I'm not sure I actually want to have a squirrel as a pet. I'm just looking for at least one meaningful encounter. The only problems is, there are always people around when I'm within petting distance of a squirrel and I feel self-conscious.\nI know you're probably saying, "Joanna, don't be so concerned with what other people think. Just be yourself! Touch the squirrels!" And maybe you're right. But, will the squirrels accept me?\nI almost had a close squirrel encounter the other day near Ballantine Hall. It was a rare moment when no one was around and a pudgy, nut-scrounging cutie pie was just at my feet. I quickly glanced in all directions, wary of onlookers. The coast was clear. The squirrel was not running away. He was frozen in time, motionless. Something inside of me snapped and I said to myself, "Now or never. This is go time."\nI could've done it. I could've petted the squirrel, but something stopped me. I started to reach down and he just stared at me. His eyes were wide and I sensed he was filled with maybe a smidgen of terror. Okay, the squirrel was obviously petrified and I felt guilty, so I left him in peace. \nBut the squirrel-shaped void in my heart remains. Surely there is a way to reach beyond the species barrier.\nPerhaps you remember that movie "The Horse Whisperer?" It came out in 1998. It was based on a book. I don't actually remember that much about it, but couldn't Robert Redford talk to horses? He had a special bond with the majestic galloping creatures and he gained their trust blah, blah, blah ... Can anyone do that with squirrels?\nI think one of my friends came close in junior high. I have a vivid image of my friend Caitlin reaching out to a squirrel, handing it a "fun size" Snickers bar. The squirrel eagerly grasped the candy with its little squirrel talons, or whatever squirrels have, and scampered away.\nBut can squirrel contact go beyond the instinctual bond of food? Is there a squirrel whisperer?\nI would seriously like to know. If anyone out there has the coveted skill of communicating with the squirrels, please take me on as your apprentice! I have so much to learn. I have nothing but respect for your trade and most importantly, the utmost of respect for the squirrels. Teach me.