The secret to robbery is stealth.

Not that I’m any expert, of course. I never steal. Mostly. That’s what I say to anybody who asks me. They say, “Maple, do you steal?”and the answer I always give is a confident “No!” But if you, a human, threaten to dig up all my hoarded pecans unless I answer honestly this question, “Maple, do you steal?” I admit that my answer will be different.

This is what you must do to steal. You must find a fruit tree. Find a fruit on the tree that has neither bird nor human cooties on it (sniff it to make sure). Stand on a fence and look around you very carefully. Use both eyes and wiggle your tail. Then leap–you must do it quickly. Jump from branch to branch and climb towards the fruit. Then get your hands on it. Use your teeth to pop it free. Then stick it in your mouth and make a quick escape.

If you are lucky you will end up with a fruit. If you are unlucky you will end up without a fruit. Such is our life: simple. If you eat a paper towel, you will get a stomachache. If you don’t eat a paper towel, no stomachache. Simplicity, logic. As a squirrel, the most important things make sense.

I sat, quivering, perched on a fence. I eyed a fruit. I looked around and tried to concentrate. Would I leap to that branch, then swing around, or jump to the top? But my effort was wasted, and the next thing I knew, some one was calling my name.

“Hey! Maple!” I looked. It was Stringy. When he was a baby, a cat had gotten at his tail. The cat got nothing but a pawfull of fur, and Stringy’s tail, and his name, were permanently altered. He ran up to me and got right up in my face. “Guess what!”

I backed off. “What?”

He moved closer. “I’m going on an adventure.”

I nodded and looked at the fruit a few feet away from me. I paid no attention to Stringy. He was always going on adventures. He fell from a tree once. Another time he ate a tennis ball. His adventures were nothing but mistakes, and nothing but scolding, injury, and the occasional stomachache resulted.

“Well? Aren’t you going to ask me what it is?” His stringlike tail wiggled. “It’s a really special adventure. Really, really special.”

I sighed. “Well, what is it then?”

He got up in my face again and whispered in my ear. “I’m going in a house.”

I glared at him. “You’re crazy.” Nobody goes inside a house. That’s where the humans go. Nobody wants to mess with them.

He nodded. “I saw one last night, and they had the windows open. I’m going to crawl in one of the windows. Look around. Have a snack, maybe. Some say that those houses are just full of food.”

I shrugged. He wasn’t my responsibility. If he wanted to get himself hurt, he could. I felt sure that the humans would come after him. Not my problem.

He looked uncomfortable for a second. “There’s just one thing. I need your help.”

“No way!” I yelped. I wasn’t helping him! Not on a suicide mission!

He nodded sadly. “You know why?”

“Why?”

“I look like a rat,” he said.