Why Squirrels Die
If there ever was a strong argument against Darwin's theory of evolution, it's squirrels. Yes, those adorable, fuzzy, curly-tailed, buck-toothed, nut eaters (ouch.) Specifically, this whole notion of "survival of the fittest" is questionable. How could a creature with all the brain power of a chewed pencil (apologies to Jessica Simpson) ever have made it this long without divine intelligence? Let's examine the facts.
Each day, millions of squirrels face a tough, gut-wrenching decision. A decision that leaves this poor creature dazed and confused: cross the road or don't. I know essays from scholarly circles have exhausted this topic to no end. Then there's that whole chicken episode. But it it leaves us to wonder: Why is this decision so difficult?
Imagine waking one morning and staring at the ceiling. You don't move. You hardly breathe. The dilemma - do I go to work or call in sick? Alright, not a good example.
Um...you decide to go to work. You shave, shower, put on your SpongeBob undies, pick your nose, the normal morning routine. Then here comes the decision: Do I dress in that snazzy new (enter gender preference here) or do I humiliate myself, get fired, and make new friends with all the lovely people in holding cell B by going to work naked? A no-brainer...except for Ms. Simpson. For sane people, a group with which I loosely associate, it's an easy choice. And yet, for a squirrel, the easiest decisions become a matter of life and death.
If you live in a treeful world, you probably see them on a daily basis. On my street, trees line both sides with oodles of branches overlapping above the cars. And yet, our little nut-biters try their hand...eh...paw at crossing the street. While they are equipped for climbing trees, crossing the street should not be a big deal. Having spent my childhood chasing squirrels - no, really, that's pretty much all I did - I can tell you that they move much more quickly than we ever could. They are fantastic jumpers. But that little, pencil-chewed brain gets short circuited.
I can imagine myself as a squirrel: I hop across the street and, at the half-way point, my ears perk. I stop, sniff the air, and flick my tail nervously. A car. Maybe about a half-mile away. What to do? I hop back in the opposite direction. But wait, maybe I can make it. I hop and hop. Yes, I'm going to make it! I'm a foot from the curb. I'm on the curb! There's a tree within three feet. But what if that car is crashing into the tree? Then it's not safe! I dart back across the street because I know the other tree is safe. But wait. That car's still coming! Okay, okay, I can do it. Just go back. Ah screw it. I'm going for that tree all out. No doubt now. Here I go. Yes, I'm going to - CRUNCH!
Why was this so difficult? Lack of commitment. That's why they die. It's indecision pure and simple. There's a lot to be learned from the small brained twit - no, not Jessica. That if we just stayed committed to our objective, we would be fine. How many times have you set a goal only to quit half-way. CRUNCH! - goes your dream. CRUNCH!-goes your self-esteem. CRUNCH!
- goes your head if your goal was to reach the tree on the other side.
The most important lesson is: stick with what your are! I mentioned my tree-lined street. If my furry friend merely climbed the tree, something God has designed for him to do, he would have been fine. He would have jumped from branch to branch landing safely on the other side. But instead he thinks, "Hey, I watched that rabbit. Thinks he's hot stuff, huh? I'll show him. I can be fast too! I can beat his puny little-cottontail from here to..." CRUNCH!
God made each creature to excel at something. A rabbit is fast, a squirrel can climb, Josh Groban can sing, Donald Trump is great at real estate deals, Steve Jobs is great at innovation, Jessica Simpson is great at not thinking, Rosie O'Donnell is great at whining. What are you great at? Think about it. Then think about what you're not great at and probably will never be. STOP IT! Do you want to CRUNCH? Focus on what makes you great. Period.
See, this is why survival of the fittest doesn't make sense. The squirrel is not the fittest - don't even get me started about high-wire electrocutions known in some parts of the country as 'Instant Barbecue'. It's the perfect argument for Divine Design. A squirrel was obviously made for two things: target practice and providing entertainment value. Therefore, when it serves it's purpose it flourishes even though Darwin would suggest it should become extinct. A possible third purpose is to teach us about our purpose. Sticking to what we were designed to accomplish. So if you ever feel like your nothing and that life is meaningless just watch a squirrel. Better yet, dig out an old episode of Newlyweds.
Each day, millions of squirrels face a tough, gut-wrenching decision. A decision that leaves this poor creature dazed and confused: cross the road or don't. I know essays from scholarly circles have exhausted this topic to no end. Then there's that whole chicken episode. But it it leaves us to wonder: Why is this decision so difficult?
Imagine waking one morning and staring at the ceiling. You don't move. You hardly breathe. The dilemma - do I go to work or call in sick? Alright, not a good example.
Um...you decide to go to work. You shave, shower, put on your SpongeBob undies, pick your nose, the normal morning routine. Then here comes the decision: Do I dress in that snazzy new (enter gender preference here) or do I humiliate myself, get fired, and make new friends with all the lovely people in holding cell B by going to work naked? A no-brainer...except for Ms. Simpson. For sane people, a group with which I loosely associate, it's an easy choice. And yet, for a squirrel, the easiest decisions become a matter of life and death.
If you live in a treeful world, you probably see them on a daily basis. On my street, trees line both sides with oodles of branches overlapping above the cars. And yet, our little nut-biters try their hand...eh...paw at crossing the street. While they are equipped for climbing trees, crossing the street should not be a big deal. Having spent my childhood chasing squirrels - no, really, that's pretty much all I did - I can tell you that they move much more quickly than we ever could. They are fantastic jumpers. But that little, pencil-chewed brain gets short circuited.
I can imagine myself as a squirrel: I hop across the street and, at the half-way point, my ears perk. I stop, sniff the air, and flick my tail nervously. A car. Maybe about a half-mile away. What to do? I hop back in the opposite direction. But wait, maybe I can make it. I hop and hop. Yes, I'm going to make it! I'm a foot from the curb. I'm on the curb! There's a tree within three feet. But what if that car is crashing into the tree? Then it's not safe! I dart back across the street because I know the other tree is safe. But wait. That car's still coming! Okay, okay, I can do it. Just go back. Ah screw it. I'm going for that tree all out. No doubt now. Here I go. Yes, I'm going to - CRUNCH!
Why was this so difficult? Lack of commitment. That's why they die. It's indecision pure and simple. There's a lot to be learned from the small brained twit - no, not Jessica. That if we just stayed committed to our objective, we would be fine. How many times have you set a goal only to quit half-way. CRUNCH! - goes your dream. CRUNCH!-goes your self-esteem. CRUNCH!
- goes your head if your goal was to reach the tree on the other side.
The most important lesson is: stick with what your are! I mentioned my tree-lined street. If my furry friend merely climbed the tree, something God has designed for him to do, he would have been fine. He would have jumped from branch to branch landing safely on the other side. But instead he thinks, "Hey, I watched that rabbit. Thinks he's hot stuff, huh? I'll show him. I can be fast too! I can beat his puny little-cottontail from here to..." CRUNCH!
God made each creature to excel at something. A rabbit is fast, a squirrel can climb, Josh Groban can sing, Donald Trump is great at real estate deals, Steve Jobs is great at innovation, Jessica Simpson is great at not thinking, Rosie O'Donnell is great at whining. What are you great at? Think about it. Then think about what you're not great at and probably will never be. STOP IT! Do you want to CRUNCH? Focus on what makes you great. Period.
See, this is why survival of the fittest doesn't make sense. The squirrel is not the fittest - don't even get me started about high-wire electrocutions known in some parts of the country as 'Instant Barbecue'. It's the perfect argument for Divine Design. A squirrel was obviously made for two things: target practice and providing entertainment value. Therefore, when it serves it's purpose it flourishes even though Darwin would suggest it should become extinct. A possible third purpose is to teach us about our purpose. Sticking to what we were designed to accomplish. So if you ever feel like your nothing and that life is meaningless just watch a squirrel. Better yet, dig out an old episode of Newlyweds.