This story was inspired by fellow Kansas City geocacher, webscouter. His encounter with a 'charging doe' is still a chilling memory...

The names in this story have not been changed. There are only two characters. One is a squirrel, the other is me; both of us victims.

My tale is one that starts off like so many others. Once upon a time...blah, blah, blah...there was a man who loved to hunt. His name was clearpath and he hunted everything. Not just for food either...he hunted for car keys because he was forgetful. He hunted his kids because they liked to play hide and seek. He hunted for bargains because he was cheap. He loved to hunt with his bow and arrows, waiting for the unsuspecting animal to stroll along then POW, steaks and sausage for everyone. But most of all, he loved geocaching and hunting for paltry knick-knacks in camo-colored ammo boxes.

So, there I was...standing in the forest at dawn, deep in the woods with a gentle breeze blowing, staring at my GPSr. Trying to locate the first geocache of the day, I heard a snarl, then a bark. It wouldn't have been so bad if the verbal assault had originated on the ground and I was in a tree. But, as luck would have it, the reverse was true.

My first thought was, "How did a dog get into the tree?" Then, reality started to twist ever so slightly. Because I knew that dogs couldn't climb trees, it had to be something else; something big, mean and ferocious. I turned around to investigate...and there was nothing.

At this point, let me tell you this story does not end well. I like to think it was man against nature. In actuality, it was nature getting even. However, just as truth is stranger than fiction, I would like to propose that reality could be just as extraordinary. By now, everyone has heard the flagship reality question, if a tree falls in the woods and no one is around to hear it, does it make a noise? What if you meet up with a squirrel in the woods and it barks at you, what then?

Simple as that...nothing big, mean or ferocious. Only a cute little squirrel, lots of trees and many birds gliding from limb to limb. Then, it barked again. I felt like announcing, "Attention K-mart shoppers; there is a barking squirrel on aisle four." I'm confused; "Why bark at me?" I thought about this for a minute, and then I started to laugh. Big mistake; the squirrel unleashed a massive barking assault. Little bits of acorns and nuts were flying out of this squirrel's mouth as it was barking. I stop laughing. Also, the squirrel has a tattoo on its neck, or is it a brand? No it's a tattoo...a lightning bolt. The barking continues.

I decided to use the 'evil eye' approach. I'd stare this animal down in hopes the intimidation factor would kick in and the furry troublemaker would retreat. After all, I outweigh this menace by a whopping 190 lbs. So, there I was, glaring with daring intent, not about to back down, when the tree rat calmly picked up an acorn and threw it at me. Ha, ha, ha...he missed. The next ten acorns hit me in the head. The squirrel somehow found a barking tone one (maybe two) octaves higher than the previous barrage. I expected he would die from exhaustion...that didn't happen.

I began to realize this nut chucker would have liked for me to leave. For some reason, the forest wasn't big enough for the two of us. It occurred to me that this forest macrocosm was not unlike my own busy world. In this, I broke some rule (no idea how) and I was paying the price. The squirrel continued to bark.

In the past while geocaching, how many times have I sat and listened to the forest come alive? Sitting still, shallow breaths and laser vision. The smell of leaves, trees and bumble bees. It is very interesting to watch an alien world come alive as light begins its slow, steady victory march over darkness. The acorns hitting me started to hurt and were leaving welts.

I decided to retreat. Here I was, giving into the will of a two-pound rodent that sounded like an 80-pound Labrador Retriever. I gathered my stuff and started my escape. The squirrel from hell continued its rant; I started walking away as acorns continued raining down. As I left, the barking suddenly stopped and the forest became quiet once again. I kept moving and then I heard it...coming from the direction of the squirrel I heard a chuckle, a laugh and then the words, "stupid human".

Okay, like my noodle wasn't cooked enough, I looked back and my bushy nemesis was running toward me at full speed. I made a quick inventory of my advantages over this squirrel and remembered the lightning bolt tattoo. I decided to run...away. I made it to my yellow Jeep, climbed in, and started the engine. I looked up and, there in front of me with tiny-balled fists, stood Super Squirrel, pounding on my windshield. As the Jeep turned back toward the road, Tarzan Squirrel jumped to the nearest oak tree, holding his left paw in the air. No, it can't be...even this furry tormentor had a middle finger.

Soon, I made it to the relative safety of the highway. I quickly breathed a sign of relief. With the forest slowly disappearing from view, I started searching for my GPSr. It was nowhere to be found. I must have dropped it in all the commotion. Oh well, it was time to buy another GPSr anyways. Let psycho squirrel have the $200 high-tech gadget. Then, the hair on the back of my neck started to rise. It occurred to me that, somewhere in the memory of the GPSr, is a waypoint for my house. I slid back down into my seat and drove aimlessly toward home.

The End