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Five o'clock in the morning one cold January day I was coming back from Goldie's morning walk to the end of the driveway. ("Going to get the newspaper" is her euphemism of choice.) It was still flashlight weather and as I went by the bird house on the upper driveway my eyes caught on a flash of gray where there is usually a round blackness. Close examination could not tell whether it was feathers or fur; chickadees nest in this house every year, but there were tooth marks as if flying squirrels might be about.
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Even after going to the house for reading glasses and a camera I could not be certain, so nothing would do but to touch.....
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As fast as a camera shutter, an answer. It's ol' Kilroy, the Carolina Chickadee
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A Filled Hole