Updated: Sep 28
Lenny deciding which part of the cake he wants (he prefers to eat the part with the candles)
We have a new friend in Lenny the squirrel menorah. Born out of need and obsession, he was to symbolize the mash-up holiday of Thanksgivukkah, but as time went on, I’ve found him to be so much: an ambassador of goodwill and whimsy, a calm tender of the fire, a birthday week companion who doesn’t get headaches from drinking too much eggnog, a confidant of the highest order, and a dear friend who I feel like I’ve always known. It’s as if a very unobtrusive but highly desirable guest dropped by and, to the delight of all, moved in for life.
The cat finds him captivating too
We found Lenny more than made him. Having first seen a spectacular white squirrel menorah on the internet, I immediately thought, “It shall be mine!” only find out that: 1) It wasn’t an actual menorah, but a collection of white squirrel candle holders, and 2) Said candle holders together would cost more than the value of one of our cars. So it was off to toy stores, antique stores, and many hours on the internet looking for squirrel menorahs (none out there – outrageous!) or nine small squirrel figurines to make a menorah from (I found every other kind of rodent but squirrels).
Lenny between big and little fire
Then I saw Lenny sitting on a shelf in the antique mall. I brought him home for a mere $6 and put him on the kitchen table for a month while wondering how to menorah-ize him. Lucky for Lenny, a cleaning buy 36 hour cialis spree helped me discover little glass cubes that composed a menorah of themselves but could be rearranged around a cheerful ceramic squirrel. Ken cut a wooden base and found some strong glue, and voila! We had our squirrel menorah.
At first Lenny hung out with the cats and basically just bided his time, resting up for the show, which began on Thanksgiving eve. From there, each night, it was another adventure, with the loudest and biggest one coming, appropriately, on the last night of Hanukkah,
Thanksgiving and no one thought to give Lenny any turkey
which happened to coincide with my birthday. Lenny was a champ about it all, traveling with ease, holding whatever candles we gave him, and releasing wax remnants with ease the next morning.
Now that Hanukkah and Thanksgiving are over, and there’s only a small
Lenny hangs out with my birthday loot. He especially likes the maple syrup.
baggie of stuffing left in the refrigerator and a few errand Hanukkah candles left, I could assign Lenny a room in the basement with the other menorahs, which seem much more like the inanimate object they are. But Lenny tells me otherwise, maybe with his eyes that truly follow me wherever I go while pretending to look straight ahead (Lenny has superb peripheral vision) and surely with his heart. Besides, I’m curious as to what Lenny’s next adventure might be, and like the troll in the film Amelie, I wouldn’t be surprised if he turns up at the Pyramids, Roman ruins or in the refrigerator, all the time reminding me how, with the right squirrel, all things are possible.