spindle raze i named him for a straight rod that spins filament into yarn. i haven't earned his whole trust yet, but every day he's here i seem to endear myself to him a little more. today i watched him scratch a persistent itch with one arm extended, paw pointing skyward. it looked for all the world like he was casting a spell. i guess he was, in his own way, and this one began: "god or goddess of squirrels, i beseech thee — it sure would be swell if you could quell what's vexing me." 250410 what's it to you? who go blather from