My squirrel

There is a squirrel in my back yard. He lives in the neighbour's tree, but at present he is busy collecting food for the winter. This includes the apples on our crab apple tree. The funny thing is, thought, that this is a little prarie squirrel, not a giant grey southern Ontario squirrel, so the apples are bigger than his head. He can't even fit his arms all the way around them. And yet he somehow manages to get enough in his mouth to carry the thing, and then he climbs up the side of the fence and carries it. As if this were not an onerous enough task, the board he walks along to get to his tree is interrupted ever 3 feet by fence posts. So he walks, walks, walks, jumps up, jumps down, walks, walks, walks, jumps up, jumps down all the way along the back of my yard. It is very amusing. I really want to show my baby, but I know he will just go "ooh" and point at the wind blowing in the branches of the apple tree, and completely miss the squirrel. I'm sure there's a metaphor about parents and children in there somewhere . . .