Wesleyan has its own mini population of black squirrels, though some claim, “THERE IS ONLY ONE! it’s just so fast it’s tricking you out, dude.”
Some people call it the Alpha Squirrel; others just call it “What the fuck was that?!”. In any case, it is a creature treated with awe, and its appearance has been heralded as both a boon and a warning. It is said that the abundance of acorns this fall was the doing of an intricate harvest dance performed by a circle of flaming black squirrels. Furthermore, what conscientious Wesleyan student will ever forget the Great Gray Squirrel Gorgefest of 2005? Word is that the black squirrel sent mind-rays into the hungry hawk’s brain cluing it into the exact GPS coordinates of the unfortunate gray squirrel in order to prevent a hurricane from striking Guam (Please, like I’m the only one who saw The Butterfly Effect).
The best place for black squirrel-watching is the WestCo courtyard, where if you’re lucky, you can see them barking–No doubt some elaborate code for the upcoming war against the skunks.
- “There’s at least 4. 4 crossed my path on my way to an orgo test once, and I did badly on it compared to my others, so I have declared a vendetta against the black squirrels, since it was obviously their doing.”
- “there was originally one black squirrel (the shadow squirrel, if you will) but in recent weeks he has cloned himself 3 times (that’s 4 folks) in preparation for some kind of evil plan/takeover that i am working on obtaining knowledge of”
- “They say when you see the black squirrel you wake up the next morning really thirsty”
- “Man, 50 years ago we’d have had it upside-down with a fork up its ass.”
- “This is actually a statement about race.”
And a quick ditty on getting your hands on this valuable creature (for lunch, or perhaps taxidermy):
- “a method pioneered at Stanford should help with this one. take a fishing rod, attach a peanut at the end of the hook, and wait. this also works with a bag of weed and people.”