Merry Gets a Promotion

Last Friday night, I had settled into my favorite chair with a can of sunflower ale. I was watching my favorite game show “Wheel of Fortune.” It was the prize puzzle round in which one contestant wins a vacation to some tropical island. I was day dreaming about being the contestant who won this fabulous getaway. I was awaken from my blissful daydream, by the incessant pounding on the burrow door. Next thing I heard was the door flying off its hinges and little Merry barraged his way in all excited. “Chippy, I got a promotion, after three weeks I’m getting out of the travel agent department. They want me to be a travel writer. I will be published in ‘Chipmunk Travel’ magazine.” And I said, “you broke down my door just tell me this!” And Merry continued rattling on, “ … The best part of the new job is I get to take one person along on my first writing assignment. I want you to be my travel buddy. It is a mystery destination, but, I was advised to take a swim suit, fur tan lotion, and sunglasses.” I replied, “Let me call my cousin Vinnie and have him fix the door, and I will grab my suitcase.” (Vinnie has a new experimental burrow repair robot he has been wanting to test out).

On the plane, Merry filled me in on the details. Turns out he has the inside scoop on all sorts of critter travel secrets. For example, we flew first class. Critters don’t take up much space on a plane and our luggage only weighs a few ounces, so, the airfare is dirt cheap (about $10). The airlines avoid mentioning they offer such cheap rates for critters because they are afraid humans will want a better deal. Chipmunk Travel, operates several five star resorts on tropical islands which cater exclusively to four pawed clientele. Merry was being sent to their newest resort which just opened. His writing assignment says it is a month long assignment and we have to try EVERYTHING. Boy is this going to be a “tough” assignment.

I can’t disclose to the non-critter world the exact location of our tropical paradise. We critters don’t want humans pouring concrete all over it and ruining it. It is still in its “natural state.”

1^st Day Assignment – “Relaxing on the Beach”

Merry has light colored fur and gets sunburned easily. I helped him apply a healthy dose of fur tan lotion.

Merry whispers an off-color joke in my ear so the other guests don’t over hear it. (Sorry, I can’t repeat it on this blog but it was hilarious)

From out of nowhere a beach volley ball landed in my sunflower seeds. The blurry image of me, it was file corruption on my camera, I wasn’t startled.

I was just “reassuring” Merry, he was “shaken up” by the ball crashing our party. Why was I hiding under the back of the umbrella? Umm, I needed some more shade.

I got an idea lets play nose ball. I will teach you the game.

Look what I just found washed up on shore. It looks like a pink sea urchin. I don’t recall seeing one of these in the field guide. It makes a great table for my sunflower seeds.

I wonder what would happen if I pushed on one of these spines [Life Guard Yells] Don’t touch the spines … it is a WWII sea mine!!! Clear the beach …. [loud air piercing noise is heard]

[THIS BLOG ENTRY WAS INTERRUPTED BEFORE BEING COMPLETED – PLEASE STAND BY FOR FURTHER INFORMATION]

Merry's newest travel client

At the travel agency, Merry’s co-workers thought his success with Harpie the seal was beginners luck. So, they set him up with a snowy owl client. There is a rumor that the last travel agent got eaten as a snack. This Snowy was nicknamed Whitey after the famous gangster. Merry confided in me that he was rather nervous about this new client. We looked up snowy owls on Wikipedia and the rumors are true: they love to eat rodents and even the occasional sea duck. Tucked away in one of the footnotes was an obscure reference to the fact that wood fiber gives owls indigestion.  Armed with the rather useful tidbit, Merry, Vinnie the P. and myself hatched a plan.

Merry went to the office and made all of the travel arrangements for his client. At the afternoon staff meeting, Merry announced he was making out his last will and testament. He asked his co-workers which of his personal possessions they wanted after his demise. It took less than five minutes for all of his worldly goods to be accounted for in his will.

Merry’s co-workers went out for a celebratory drink after work to congratulate themselves on finally ridding themselves of him. Vinnie and myself casually dropped by the tavern and bought them a round drinks. Then we started a betting pool. We got all twelve of his co-workers to wager a month’s pay that Merry would be eaten by his client. (If he survived they would have to pay us).

Merry gave the snowy owl a trip to the snow covered marshes near Salisbury Beach. The marshes are infested with mice and rats. (We chipmunks are not on good terms with mice and rats. They compete with for the same food resources.) When Whitey arrived at Salisbury Beach State Reservation gate house, he was greeted by a crowd of bird paparazzi with those expensive long lens. (Merry had announced his eminent arrival on the bird spotter websites). He loved all the attention. He had always dreamed of being a big celebrity. (Merry had wisely checked his facebook page and read all about his aspirations!)

Come Monday morning, Merry intentionally arrived late to the office to build up the suspense. He made a grand entry, jumped on his desk and ripped his will to shreds. Vinnie and myself dropped by a few minutes later and collected our “earnings.” Merry got a year’s salary out of the deal (minus our 10% fee)

Merry at his Woodpile office reading up on Snowy Owls and how they like to eat rodents

 

"Whitey" perched on the Salisbury Beach State Reservation gate house.

For a photo opt with the paparazzi. 

Whitey decided to visit the locals but they left in a real hurry,

straight through the bottom of the bird house!

The gray skies gave way to a snow storm.

Whitey found shelter amongst the rocks of the jetty.

 

On the next day, Whitey spent the afternoon "sun bathing"

  

In the later afternoon, he decided to go on a  hunting safari in the marshes.

Superbowl Champs Parade

On Tuesday Boston hosted the world’s biggest Superbowl party complete with a parade. An estimated 1.5 million people showed up. Human beings were packed like sardines into trains, buses, and cars trying to get into the parade. Not a problem for us critters. We had plenty of room under the seats and in the overhead luggage compartments. As for all of the sunflower seed shells on the floor, well, they just blamed it on a bunch of rowdy two legged fans.

The Woodpile got into the parade an hour early only to find some fans had arrived 4 hours early and it was really crowded. The only thing we didn’t factor in, was how we were going to see the parade over the heads of this crowd. We thought about sneaking up to the fence but then we realized we would be crushed under foot. Junior suggested we all climb up into the tree. A brilliant idea.

I had checked the weather forecast before leaving. It was supposed to be sunny and 50 degrees. However, during the parade, a squall hit Boston, and we had near white out conditions at moments. The funny thing is the snow flakes were red, white, and blue. I was told it was a special type of snow called “confetti.”

I thought I would share a few photos from the parade.

 

Mr. Kraft with one of the trophies

 

Julian Edelman with his beard and MVP trophy

The GOAT

#45 Trent Harris and #93 Lawrence Guy

Blue sky and a sudden snow squall (very strange weather in Boston)

 

Superbowl Chippy

A few months ago there was a local talent contest at the Woodpile Thanksgiving football game. Each contestant got to do the play-by-play broadcast announcing for ten minutes. I tried out just for the fun of it. I did pretty well I thought but I didn’t win. The Woodpile once again won the game and in all the excitement it never dawned on me that they never did announce the winner of the contest. This was a bit odd in hindsight.

On Friday morning 4am I was snugly in bed in my burrow. It was an arctic 5 degrees outside. I was sleeping soundly when I got a call from CSN. What your not familiar with CSN? This is international renowned Chipmunk Sports Network. They broadcast out of the subbasement at Gillette Stadium home of the New England Patriots. Apparently, I had won the contest and I was supposed to be in Atlanta but some assistant to the assistant dropped the ball and forget to let me know back in November. I needed to catch a 9am flight. I was a bit groggy and asked the caller why I needed to be in Atlanta …. “Chippy, you will be doing the live broadcast announcing for the Superbowl! We estimate CSN will have an audience of twenty-five million critter viewers.” “By the way, we have arranged for you to an interview with the GOAT.” Why would I want to interview a goat about the superbowl?