But what do we find, one day, looking out into the garden? We find something little and black scurrying around in the garden. Suddenly, the little black (furry) thing looks up, spots us, and takes off running.
It was a squirrel. And it had a zucchini tucked under one paw.
Now, for one thing, I didn't even know squirrels could *do* that. For another, the zucchinis were really quite big - at least as big as the squirrel, if not bigger. And the squirrel was struggling along, zucchini in tow, shooting dirty looks over its shoulder every couple of seconds. Frankly astonished, we did nothing to stop it - partly because we were curious to see how far the squirrel would get. It got all the way to the fence, still shooting us dirty looks, and up it, and over it, then carried its zucchini through its leap from the top of the fence, onto a tree branch, and disappeared into the top branches of the tree.
Afterward, we could only come to one conclusion. We have Ninja Squirrels.
Immediately following this, we were forced to conclude that the Ninja Squirrels had formed some kind of sect for the retrieval of vegetables from unwitting gardens. The squirrel we had witnessed was none other than one of the vaunted Zucchini Ninjas - black from nosetip to tailtip, fiery-eyed, quick and clever. Not to mention freakishly strong. I swear, the zucchini was as big as the squirrel.
There are only two zucchinis left - only two survived. One about the size of my forearm (we assumed this one was too big and heavy for even the Zucchini Ninjas to spirit away) and a tiny little thumb-sized one, which had little tooth-marks in it. Such a sad little zucchini. We think they must have discarded it for lack of size.
Though for some reason, the Zucchini Ninjas did *not* raid our cross-street neighbours' garden. At least, not enough to be noticeable. Though they have been raiding the fig tree down the street. I keep seeing them running along with figs in their mouths as big as their own heads.
I don't think it's just the squirrels, though. I have clear recollection of the chipmunks on Parliament Hill, who would stand at the head of stairs, nearly reaching the knee, and give challenging glares to approaching tourists.
Not to mention the Granville Island Hell Pigeons, twice the normal size and which flock in groups of three hundred or more and mob unwitting tourists into corners. Regulars know to avoid being alone with the pigeons.
The the Zucchini Ninja Squirrels are only the latest sign of something bigger. I'm telling you, the animals are up to something. And don't let's forget about the lobsters.