The chipmunk (or one of the chipmunks) that lives in my garage came and quizzically looked at me a couple of times today as if to say: "excuse me, sir, but this is my home and you're making a lot of racket! Also I was using the wheelbarrow to store my discarded acorn shells, so I hope you move it back." But also to say "thank you for these wood shavings", or so I'd like to think.
Heather is inclined to attempt to seal the garage from chipmunk ingress. I'm more inclined to live and let live.
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