I would be lying to myself if I didn’t say it’s entirely technology’s fault that I have a horrible case of tech-neck. Do you see that picture? That’s me. I’m a squirrel and it’s my “z” shaped posture I’m referring to. As if staring at my phone at least 5 hours a day wasn’t enough, now all my classes are being taught online. Even my Foraging for Nuts in a Quarantined World INQS is entirely virtual if you can believe it. 

Regardless of knowing the cause of my misshapen figure, I still spent the singular sunny day in Oregon texting away on the six-pack lawn. However, this time I wasn’t searching Twitter for the next predictable Bernie meme. I’ve actually found a new app to pass my time with: Tinder. As it turns out, dating apps are not just for bi-peds, squirrels get lonely too.

With springtime (or better yet known as the dreaded mating season) starting to creep up, I’m feeling more and more desperate to settle into a relationship. I’m not sure why my parents feel so strongly about me settling down, I’m only in college! It’s probably because they met here and fully believe in me harnessing the Linfield love notoriety in their pawsteps. But who are they kidding, with luck they’d probably only live up to the birth of my kits. As you may or may not know squirrels aren’t long for this world, but fingers crossed I’m one of the exceptional individuals that makes it to 12 years old.

In order to appease my dear parents I’ve joined my share of dating apps and actually started messaging a few squirrels from the IM field. We mostly exchange small talk, but there’s just enough flirting (or what I’m perceiving as such) to keep me invested. Maybe they’ll be the one, but I’m also highly doubtful.

Until next time… 

~ a Linfield squirrel