The Squirrel Census of The Milky Way Galaxy is a science, design, and storytelling team. We go in and we do the job, and we do it really well. As our name implies, we perform neighborhood and park counts of Sciurus carolinensis (also known as the Eastern gray squirrel), and we present our findings to the public. Previous Squirrel Census info-conveyances have arrived — fully formed — as comprehensive maps and other attractive data visualizations, songs and records, 1-800 numbers, anti-Ted Talk “Ted Talks,” videos, anthropomorphic stories, something called Burning Squirrel, and there was that one time when we held a press conference at an event celebrating “passion projects.” As long as our work brings to curious parties something close to joy, and as long as at least one person calls our work “absurd,” we are moderately satisfied. Also: We are somewhat suspicious of mimes and their intentions. But that does not preclude the possibility that we would be willing to work with mimes during a squirrel count at a future date. Our ultimate goal remains the same as when we launched this enterprise in 2012: to send one squirrel, accompanied by a human and a video-cam, into the Black Hole at the center of our Milky Way Galaxy and, you know, see what happens? Aside from that, we are seeking The Meaning of the Life through the pursuit of both poetry and science, but please respect that we do not under any circumstance accept poetry submissions.
And the squirrels keep working the acorn mines. Up at dawn, lunchbox in paw, no excuses, off to work. All we gotta do, they think, is get through this one day alive. Just this for today: No dying. And make sure little Jimmy doesn’t start smoking the stuff. That’s all we gotta do. Maybe run around. Climb. Take a few dangerous leaps, just to show everybody we can. Maybe flirt a little. Tussle. Run. Run! Then, day over, sun setting in a fiery crash into the Earth beyond the human skyline, nice view from the branch, hawk circling overhead, calling out, “I’m gonna get you tomorrow! Rest up! Because you might have dodged my talons today, Squirrel-Friend, but tomorrow you will bleed your way into my stomach and fill me with warm God-like powers of Time Suspension!” (Hawks get weird when they talk about food.) Anyway, another day done, climb into the nest or cubby-hole in the tree, curl up. Dream of love. Love is what keeps the world alive. We have to stay alive. If we die, the world dies with us. We’re saving the planet one day at a time. Dream, Squirrel, dream.