Michelle Kirk
9(1) Language Arts Period 1
Mrs. Kirk
September 11, 2009
Truth or Lie: A Squirrel’s Tail
As I was driving to school one dreary February morning, not one streak of orange
sunshine, not one purple cloud lit the gray sky. But that morning I was not the only creature
awake. As I drove the hilly road toward the highway I take to school, I spotted a massive hawk
circling in the gray sky. While ascending and descending the small series of hills on Edge Hill
Road, I admired the graceful bird as it spiraled earthward with its large brown wings. As I
approached the hawk’s location, I noticed something else: the regal bird seemed to have
something in its clutches: something brown, something fuzzy, something squirming. A
SQUIRREL!! “That’s some breakfast! Poor squirrel,” I thought. I didn’t know just how
unfortunate that poor squirrel soon would be.
When I was about 500 feet from the hawk’s location, something amazing happened. The
squirrel, determined to live another day, squirreled its way out of the hawk’s steely clutches.
Luckily, the hawk was only about fifteen feet in the air at the time, and the squirrel hit the black
asphalt in the right lane of the road, and popped right up on its hind legs, as if it were
embarrassed that one of its companion’s spotted its tumble. “I’m alive!” it seemed to shout
jubilantly. It had survived its feathered predator, but sadly it would not live to tell its tale. For as
it stood, amazed at its survival, a white Honda Accord with nowhere to swerve, sped toward the
noble rodent. THUNK. The driver, yours truly, was devastated.