My Adventures with a Squirrel on a Stick

by Cynthia Smith

When my beloved Golden Retriever Wishbone died of cancer in 2010, I couldn’t imagine my house without a dog. It had been 13 years since I had a puppy and I wasn’t sure I could handle that much activity. I know play is an important part of their development, but I am no spring chicken.

A New Adventure
My new Golden Retriever, Samson, was extremely active by 6-months of age, and in my effort to keep him busy, I thought I’d pick up some tips from watching Animal Planet. Victoria Stilwell is an English dog trainer who can walk into your house and change your dog’s behavior in about five minutes, which really irritates the pet owners.
In one episode, she recommended that the owners exercise their dog using a squirrel on a long stick that looks something like a fishing pole. You twirl it around, drag it on the ground and the dog chases it and gets exhausted in no time.
Just what I needed, so I purchased one online. Samson went crazy and we had a great time in the backyard. Upon seeing the joy Samson had playing with the squirrel on a stick; I immediately thought about my friend Connie and her 7-month old Golden Retriever puppy named Finn.

Finn and a Squirrel on a Stick!
Finn is built like a Mac truck, with feet the size of pie plates. He is big, strong, fast and magnificently beautiful. Here is where things go terribly wrong. Apparently, a squirrel on a stick is like crack cocaine to a Golden Retriever. As I stood in my friend’s backyard swinging the squirrel and twirling it around to keep the fuzzy toy away from our two young dogs, I noticed they were jumping higher, chasing it a lot faster, and were on such a high that it would have taken a firefighter’s hose to break their concentration. They were in the zone. As I twirled around to keep from being run over, I fell off my clogs, and just as I was falling to the ground Finn took me out like a 300 pound linebacker with 10 seconds left on the clock.
Now, I am on the ground and both dogs are attacking me to get their hands on the squirrel which happened to be wedged under my body. I might as well have had a pork chop tied around my neck. I can't get up, and Connie is screaming and can’t get them off of me. I have no idea how I got up. I crawled across the yard to safety, leaving the squirrel to meet its demise.

My Trip to the Emergency Room
I told Connie I was okay, even though I could hardly walk and my foot had swollen to twice its size before I left her driveway. For the next hour or so, I sat on my couch watching my foot turn black. About 9 pm, my son came home and I said, “Do you think this looks bad?” Off to the hospital we went, and I spent the entire trip trying to figure out how I was going to explain this to a doctor.
How can I say I was attacked by a dog who was trying to get my squirrel on a stick? How could I call my office in the morning and tell them I couldn’t come to work because my foot was broken in an accident that involved a squirrel on a stick.
I don’t look crazy, but my life sometimes indicates otherwise. I am sure the incident provided another great story for the emergency room staff at Shawnee Mission Medical Center. And, you know they have seen a lot of weird stuff. Eight weeks later, I was back in my clogs and the squirrel was safely put away in the garage. Every time I see it, I burst out laughing. I guess the moral of the story is “Don’t play with a squirrel on a stick, and if you do, keep it to yourself.”

Cynthia Smith is President of Wayside Waifs, the largest no-kill Animal Adoption Center in Kansas  City, MO. Smith has had many animals over the years. She recently wrote the book Dogs Get Cancer Too. She is a first time author, but a seasoned journalist. She is a two-time Emmy winner and a former news anchor for WDAF-TV in Kansas City. She also served as President and CEO of Sunflower House, a Child Abuse Prevention Center. She can be reached at Wayside Waifs at (816) 761-8151 or visit www.waysidewaifs.org.