Sigmund and Beaumont: Squirrel Races

Sigmund and Beaumont: Squirrel Races

One morning, Beaumont, a wee black housecat who loved wearing bow ties, and his best pal Sigmund, a house spider, were walking through the oak forest that stood proudly behind Miss Sally’s home. The morning spring air was nippy, yet comfortable with the warm rays of sunshine casting its golden magic on the mists of dawn. There in the forest, they met their dear friend Elliot Squirrel. Elliot, a red squirrel, nervously paced back and forth. He would stop, fiddle with his bandana that he always wore around his neck, then begin pacing again. Beaumont went to his friend, Sigmund perched on his head.

“Elliot,” Beaumont said. “What’s the matter, my friend?” 

“Looks likes you’ve seen yourself a ghostie goo,” Sigmund said.

“Oh Beaumont, Sigmund, I’m just so nervous and afraid,” said Elliot. “My whole family is coming around today. This is the first family reunion where I’m old enough to race with my siblings and cousins in the Junior Squirrel Races.”

“What are you afraid of?” Beaumont asked his friend gently, not wishing to pry but also wanting to help his friend.

“I just don’t know if I’m good enough to compete. My brother and sisters, and my cousins, are all far faster runners, and far quicker climbers than I am,” Elliot said.

“The games are meant to be fun right?” asked Beaumont.

“Well, yeah. I guess they are.”

“And you’ve always enjoyed watching them, right?”

“I suppose so, yeah. We have watched them together every year.”

“Then just have fun,” Beaumont comforted. 

“If yous be a tryin’ your best, then there is nothing to worry about. Your best is your best, ole friend,” Sigmund added, stretching his mandibles into the closest thing to a smile he could muster.

Beaumont continued, smiling brightly at his friend, “And besides, these are just recreational family games. You’re amazing in so many other ways. No one can calculate acorn harvest percentages quicker, more efficiently, or more accurately than you.”

“Or paints pictures as truly beauteous as yours. If I hads me own place to live in, other than my web in Miss Sally’s kitchen, of course, I’d be a buyin’ all your paintin’s,” Sigmund added. 

“Thanks, guys. I’m ready to race now. I need to face my fears. Let’s go,” said Elliot, turning toward the clearing where the reunion gathering was being held. He took a deep breath in, straightened his sunny yellow bandana, then stood up on his hind legs confidently. “I, Elliot Henry Squirrel, will do my very best, and will not compare myself to others. I will have fun, and always do my best.”

Beaumont, with Sigmund still atop his head, followed Elliot who confidently marched to the gathering. His family greeted him, cheering him on. Even his sisters, brother, and cousins, the ones he would be racing against. He caught a glimpse of the starting line through the trees, and for a moment his heart skipped a beat. But he reminded himself to just do his best and have fun. His sisters, Marigold, Louisa, and Lottie, and his brother, James, all came around him to support their little brother. Even cousins Kevin, Beatrice, and Brionny came around him, excited to have him participate. 

Beaumont found a stump to sit on with a great view of the race course. Sigmund dangled himself from a tree bower above, swaying excitedly back and forth as Elliot and his family lined up at the starting line. The cool, crisp spring breeze came dancing and twirling through the trees, rustling the branches and caressing the buds that were popping up along their outstretched limbs. 





An acorn, popping in a nearby campfire, signalled the start of the race. Off they went, scurrying as quickly as their little legs would carry them. Elliot dashed by. Beaumont waved as they passed. Elliot was in fourth, third, then second. He focused on the finish line up at the top of the Great Oak in Star Moss clearing. Up the tree he climbed. Higher, higher, up and up. He closed his eyes as he neared the top. Then… He felt the finish line ribbon break against his face. He came to a stop, panting but grinning. Elliot had won! His family reached the finish line shortly after. The others gathered around the base of the tree as Elliot was carried down the tree and to the rest of the Squirrel clan. 

“Good on ya, little brother,” James said, messing up the fur on Elliot’s head with a laugh of mirth and good spirits. “I knew you could do it.”

“It was like I was flying,” Elliot said, continuing to beam. “Beaumont, you were right. I didn’t think about racing against anyone, I just let the joy of running through the forest guide me.”

“Yous were amazin’, like a speedin’ hawk, so you were,” said Sigmund.

“That’s my Elliot,” said Beaumont, smiling with him. “Congratulations.”