The woodchuck smoothed out the carefully preserved catalpa leaf and placed it on the sunny rock. The tree lost its leaves in one big clump in the fall and some of them were as big as beavers; after they dried and shriveled, they looked like sleeping rats. The woodchuck was often startled when she went up to talk to one of them and it turned out to be mulch.
Spread out on her favorite rock, though, it made a perfect tablecloth. The day was warm and sunny for the end of February and since she kept waking up from hibernation screaming with anxiety, she figured she may as well have a picnic. She had saved a tidily wrapped little surprise since the end of summer and now it would be her lunch.
As she lifted the slightly stale bean burrito to her mouth, salivating at the thought of the delicious cheese, refried beans and sour cream about to coat her taste buds, it was suddenly slapped out her paw with a howling “STOP!”
Shirley stood over her, quivering with indignation as she pointed the burrito at the woodchuck. “Are you kidding me?” she screamed at her cousin. “We talked about this! We are boycotting Taco Bell because they are huge contributors to the campaigns of the very animals who are trying to destroy our forest and democracy!”
The woodchuck watched in horror as Shirley flung the burrito as far as she could, which was only about seven inches because her front paws were quite short.
“I didn’t buy it,” protested the woodchuck. “I found it behind the dumpster next to the Taco Bell. I don’t think that should count–I’m not supporting them; I’m helping with the problem of food waste!”
Shirley seemed temporarily stumped by this statement–it was a loophole she hadn’t anticipated. “I think you’re being disingenuous; it’s the intent behind the boycott that matters. If you care enough about trying to stop the weasel and the muskrat from destroying everything, then you have to be willing to do whatever it takes, no matter how insignificant it seems.”
The woodchuck didn’t know what disingenuous meant but she would never admit that to her cousin. “I am a true supporter! I emptied all the stuffing out of my WalMart bag quilt and threw it away.” She did not mention that her long toenails had ripped a jagged tear in the plastic and that her burrow was now a snow globe of floating feathers.
“I know you’re trying,” sighed Shirley. “We’re all trying. It doesn’t feel like it’s enough, but every little bit helps, I suppose. Are you ready for the big economic blackout tomorrow?”
“Ready!” shouted the woodchuck, although she was surprised to find out it was finally February 28. This had been the longest month in the history of the world. “I will not spend any money on anything and we will take down the large corporations that depend upon our dollars to buy yachts!”
Shirley seemed pleased with the response and hugged her, neither of them mentioning that they were woodchucks and had no money or opposable thumbs to use credit cards. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” She waved as she left and then thrust a tiny paw in the air. “Cancel your subscription to WaPo! Fuck Jeff Bezos!”
The woodchuck had no idea who Jeff Bezos was, but she nodded enthusiastically. As soon as Shirley was out of sight, she ate the rest of the burrito. It could have used a little more sour cream.
Here is info about the economic blackout, which is on Friday, February 28. So if you need cat food, get it today.
I was very sad to find out that Taco Bell has a high percentage of donations to Republican candidates. RIP, my delicious Caliente Cantina Chicken Quesadilla!
theblindwoodchuck.com 