I Can Has Peanut?

"No, I'm not feeding you," I told the chipmunk that ran over and stood on my foot as soon as we got out of the car. The rangers warned us about raccoons. They didn't say anything about extremely bold chipmunks.

Big softie K. was enchanted. "It's so cute," he said several times while we set up camp, even when he had to shoo it away from the open car door. Getting ready for dinner, he reached for the bag of peanuts.

"Don't feed it," I said.
"Look how cute he is." He shelled a peanut and tossed it on the dirt, where it sat for approximately .2 seconds before the chipmunk stuffed it in a cheek pouch.
"Look! It's like a hamster. I didn't know they did that."
"We're never going to get rid of it now."
K. flipped an empty shell on the ground near the chipmunk. It didn't even turn its head. "Look! He knows physics. He knew that didn't hit with the right velocity."
"Yeah," I said.
"I wonder what he would do with a whole one." K. tossed out an unshelled peanut. "Wow! He got that whole thing in his mouth!"

The chipmunk scampered off to cache its findings and we started preparing our own meal. Next thing I knew, K. bellowed and jumped up, flailing like a windmill. The chipmunk went flying in the opposite direction. "Little fucker was on my knee!"

Now in hyper-peanut-seeking mode, the chipmunk jumped into my lap. I swatted it with a towel. It bounced off the ground and into K.'s lap. "Gaaaahhh!" he yelled, waving his arms. The chipmunk ricocheted off the folding chair and into the picnic basket. I brandished the lighter at it and it jumped out. Ground squirrel and woman faced off for a tense moment.

"Knock it off," I said.
"He doesn't understand you," K. said.
"It understands my tone."

The chipmunk put its head down and moved on to stuffing leaves in its cheeks. It was pretty much our constant companion during the day, except for when the red squirrels were running laps around the tent.

Only one raccoon paid us a visit. It said something to K., but he didn't understand.