image by Alexia Fotos from Pixabay CHECKERS
When I was little, my sister and I used to play checkers. One day, we noticed that a squirrel was watching us through the window. Well, it became a routine. Every day, we would play checkers, and the squirrel would watch. Then one day, the window was open, and the squirrel actually came inside and watched us. After my sister left, I asked the squirrel if it wanted to play checkers. It just looked at me. Then it did something strange. It jumped onto the checkerboard, grabbed a checker in its front paws, and before I knew it, jumped out the window. Then I saw it sitting on a branch, gnawing on the checker.
The next day, I was ready. As soon as the squirrel came in the window, I grabbed up all the checkers and put some peanuts out on the checkerboard. The same thing happened. It grabbed up a peanut and jumped out the window. Only, this time it came back, looking for another peanut. I put a peanut on the checkerboard and carefully pushed it onto another square, as if it were a checker. The squirrel grabbed for it, but I was quicker. I held onto it and waited until the squirrel moved away. Then I moved it like a checker again. This time, the squirrel caught on. It pushed the peanut to another square and then grabbed it and jumped out the window.
On the day after that, I went back to using real checkers. Whenever the squirrel would move a checker, I would give it a peanut. Pretty soon, it was playing checkers. I started giving it peanuts only when it made a good move. After a while, the squirrel became a pretty fair player.
In our part of the mountains, it’s not really unusual for a trained animal to play games. At the county fair, there’s a contest just for game-playing animals. I decided to enter the squirrel in the checkers tournament. I didn’t know who, or what, my squirrel would draw as an opponent. It turned out to be a snake, a three-foot long copperhead. He could play a really mean game of checkers. It was a close match, but the squirrel finally won, because it had a better coach.
There was a man there who offered to buy my squirrel. I wound up with twenty dollars, which I thought was a pretty good deal.
I never saw that squirrel again, but there’s one more turn to this story. Once in a while, a newspaper found its way into our log cabin, and one day my sister, the one who could read, was looking at some newspaper.
“Well, I guess there’s not much real news,” she said. “Seems they’ve gone to making things up. It says here that the Massachusetts State Open Checkers Tournament was won by a squirrel.”
I think I was beginning to feel faint just then, but I managed to hear her last line.
“And there was a hundred dollar prize.”
When I was little, my sister and I used to play checkers. One day, we noticed that a squirrel was watching us through the window. Well, it became a routine. Every day, we would play checkers, and the squirrel would watch. Then one day, the window was open, and the squirrel actually came inside and watched us. After my sister left, I asked the squirrel if it wanted to play checkers. It just looked at me. Then it did something strange. It jumped onto the checkerboard, grabbed a checker in its front paws, and before I knew it, jumped out the window. Then I saw it sitting on a branch, gnawing on the checker.
The next day, I was ready. As soon as the squirrel came in the window, I grabbed up all the checkers and put some peanuts out on the checkerboard. The same thing happened. It grabbed up a peanut and jumped out the window. Only, this time it came back, looking for another peanut. I put a peanut on the checkerboard and carefully pushed it onto another square, as if it were a checker. The squirrel grabbed for it, but I was quicker. I held onto it and waited until the squirrel moved away. Then I moved it like a checker again. This time, the squirrel caught on. It pushed the peanut to another square and then grabbed it and jumped out the window.
On the day after that, I went back to using real checkers. Whenever the squirrel would move a checker, I would give it a peanut. Pretty soon, it was playing checkers. I started giving it peanuts only when it made a good move. After a while, the squirrel became a pretty fair player.
In our part of the mountains, it’s not really unusual for a trained animal to play games. At the county fair, there’s a contest just for game-playing animals. I decided to enter the squirrel in the checkers tournament. I didn’t know who, or what, my squirrel would draw as an opponent. It turned out to be a snake, a three-foot long copperhead. He could play a really mean game of checkers. It was a close match, but the squirrel finally won, because it had a better coach.
There was a man there who offered to buy my squirrel. I wound up with twenty dollars, which I thought was a pretty good deal.
I never saw that squirrel again, but there’s one more turn to this story. Once in a while, a newspaper found its way into our log cabin, and one day my sister, the one who could read, was looking at some newspaper.
“Well, I guess there’s not much real news,” she said. “Seems they’ve gone to making things up. It says here that the Massachusetts State Open Checkers Tournament was won by a squirrel.”
I think I was beginning to feel faint just then, but I managed to hear her last line.
“And there was a hundred dollar prize.”