Poor Little Jeremy Meyer
As everyone is aware, squirrels have a long history of nut eating. In fact, I had never heard of any young, healthy squirrel with distaste for the staple food of those with bushy tails.
That was, of course, until I became acquainted with a rather odd, little fellow. His appearance was not dissimilar to any of his classmates-none of which ever expressed an opinion of oddity regarding their friend, however how could they? It was not his appearance or display of actions that rivalled common squirrel traditions; his uniqueness lay upon his tongue, breaking the status quo of all squirrel kind.
Little Jeremy Myer despised nuts and whenever a nut was placed in his vicinity, his paws would sweat.
The truth was that Jeremy was terrified of nuts. He had never spoken a word about this to his friends or family, in fear that he would become some sort of social pariah, looked down upon by even the most hated members of his species.
He often wondered of the terrible names they would call him and the lonely existence that the universe must have made his destiny to endure.
In all honesty, Jeremy's obsessions where based on the curved, voluptuous beauty of strawberries.
Despite never having taken a single miniscule amount of strawberry flesh past his lips, Jeremy's dreams smelled of strawberry lemonade and trifles.
His infatuation left the bitter taste of guilt and shame on his tongue. How could he do this to his family, wasting his time fantasizing about strawberries when he should have been attending Sunday school, learning of the great Nutter god, who sent her flesh into the world to succour her mortal children?
Yet, strawberry nights haunted him, often leaving him hot, bothered and in need of a cold shower.
"If I only I could taste some," he whispered.
"Maybe then I will be able to forget about this perverted need for red berry love."
One day, after awaking from slumber, Jeremy felt a new sense of determination in his gut; he would eat a strawberry! He would!
There was a strawberry field just across from his tree that had always tempted him with its delightful form, redolent with fruity essence but he had always been too scared to venture into its depths, frightened that the strawberry farmer may steal his soul.
But this time was different; he couldn't deny his body's need any longer.
It was almost too easy.
He had never felt this way in his life; he was surrounded by mounds of bushes mottled with the sweetest little red bodies he had ever seen.
Their green leaves grown into edgy pixie cuts only seemed to intensify their cuteness.
He had to taste one.
He looked around, sampling the goods with his eyes. That was when he saw the loveliest being he had ever laid eyes upon.
Its body lay against the middle of the nearest bush with lush green hair.
Jeremy climbed and reached out to pluck his desire from its resting place but, before he could, he acquired the oddest feeling in his gut.
It was guilt.
It felt like he was about to do something terribly wrong. His paw extended to stroke the strawberry's mop of green hair.
It didn't respond.
It was then that he realised something awful. What if the strawberry didn't want to be picked and eaten? Just because it was edible and beautiful didn't mean that it wanted anything like that to happen.
Jeremy started to cry. He knew then that he couldn't have that strawberry. It would have been wrong to, no matter how easy it may have been. Jeremy jumped from the tree, skilfully landing on his feet.
But, just as he was about to walk away, something extraordinary happened. The strawberry, that he had gazed at in awe, fell straight into his hands.
It had been firmly attached to the bush just a minute before but, somehow, the strawberry had followed its admirer. Jeremy was so happy and suddenly felt so much lighter.
Finally, he was able to be with the strawberry and somehow he knew that if he hadn't of walked away before, that this experience would not have tasted anywhere near as sweet.