When something goes missing and you can’t explain why–I think you had better start looking to the local squirrel population for answers. We’ve already learned about the case of the vanished juggling balls. Here’s another of life’s little mysteries solved.
My upstairs neighbors were life-long New Yorkers who had been transplanted to Washington, DC. One morning, when the wife was away on a business trip, the husband put a peach on the dining room table so that it would ripen. When he came home that night, the peach was gone. He was mystified. He knew he had put it there that morning!
The next day he was eating lunch at said table when a squirrel nosed through an opening in the window screen. It crawled up on the table on its belly, flattened, with its tail held over its body like an umbrella. As if somehow my friend couldn’t see anything but a tail. “Oh look! There goes a tail across the table, all by itself!” Ya.
So the “tail” keeps crawling until it reaches the baguette my friend was going to eat. Grabs it, and makes its getaway back through the window before my stunned friend could react.
Now New Yorkers are used to just about anything, but apparently not burglaries by disembodiend tails. I can’t think why.