Camden Tales

Camden Tales

Camden tales are many. Camden tails fewer. They mostly belong to the squirrels. 

Zee, a middle aged man, is a born again gardener. Child 1, a teenager, who has watched his dad turn horticultural, acquire an allotment to supplement the garden, has a theory, delivered with the certitude of youth:  

“It’s when you are too old to be a hunter gatherer you turn into a farmer and plant your veg”. 

He sounds slightly alarmed when he says it. Maybe it’s a glimpse of his future.  

Zee is at war with the squirrels.  

They have dug up his bulbs, constantly burying them as tasty little snacks for the winter and forgetting where they are so they have to search for them, randomly digging up bulbs along the way. They stripped the bark from a lovely Robina tree, for that alone he will not forgive them. Only the grey, red ones are reputedly more cute and intelligent, they have been driven out by the grey thugs. 

“Rats with tails.” He calls them. After some thought: “I want to kill them.” He throws down the gauntlet, squirrels beware! 

“I will kill them.” 

Child 2 is 8 years old and sceptical: 

“How?” 

“I’ll get a trap, then I’ll bang ‘em on the head with my spade.” 

This to a child who feels empathy with all the creatures (except at times, parents). He has argued passionately for the rights of lice to inhabit his head and the mouse who had taken up occupation behind the fridge.  Surely, he reasoned, we had enough food for him? He was overruled on those but the squirrel, that was different? 

Zee saw the dismay on the boy’s face. 

“It will be quick. He won’t suffer.” 

“Oh please don’t. They can’t help that they are squirrels.” 

Zee got a humane trap, a little cage. The following morning there was a squirrel in the trap in the garden. It was angry, he put it into the car and drove it to Regent’s Park and set it free before he went to work. And the next day he did the same. By the third day the novelty was wearing off and the suspicion was growing that it could be the same squirrel coming back. It was difficult to be sure, as to the non-squirrel they all look rather alike. The amount of squirrel activity in the garden didn’t show any sign of diminishing. On the fourth day Zee was approached by a park keeper, he didn’t look happy. Zee was holding a wriggling sack in his hand. 

“Excuse me Sir, but what are you doing?”  

Zee explained. 

“I’m afraid you can’t do that Sir.” 

It was now Zee’s turn to look unhappy. There was no ‘Take a Squirrel to Work’ day so he reluctantly brought the squirrel back, and made himself late for work. 

The following day Zee was no more Mr Nice Guy. He threw a rock at the first squirrel he saw in the garden and was astonished to find that he’d killed it. Unfortunately Child 2 had seen the act and was horrified and was only pacified when it was decided there would be a full burial. In the garden. 

Zee and the squirrels still don’t like each other much.