Last summer I accidentally saved a chipmunk from becoming a kitty-snack. Or perhaps I almost caused the little guy to become someone’s lunch, depending on how you want to look at it.

During one of my obnoxious-addiction-but-it’s-legal breaks in the parking lot at work, the little fuzzy guy went barreling past me, headed for the home nest. I guess I did make him a bit nervous, as he failed to notice he was headed straight for a big old neighborhood cat resting in the shade underneath a car and looking entirely pleased with the impending food delivery.

At the next to last possible moment the little rodent realized where he was headed and did the tightest micro 180 I’ve seen in a long time. Friend cat, not happy with this turn of events, began to head out after his intended morsel.

Apparently in the chipmunk’s mind I, as the largest semi-stationary object within scurrying distance, had now become the lesser of two evils. He ran behind me and literally hid behind my feet, and stayed there until the cat lost interest and found a leaf to chase. As is normal for a cat, this took about 12 seconds.

As soon as the threat of feline consumption had passed, the chipmunk again resumed his course without a glance back.

I just overcame my irrational fear of google and now know that the average life span of a chipmunk in the wild is two to three years. I only mention this because today I went outside to the parking lot, to enjoy the warm weather and again indulge in that habit which must not be named.

While indulging, a suspiciously similar chipmunk … well ok, to be honest they’re all pretty similar … popped out from under the porch, plopped down not three feet in front of me and just stared at me for at least a good thirty seconds. Then in a flash he was off to parts unknown.

While it’s most likely this was just a coincidence, I like to think he was saying thanks.