I saw Rocky this morning. 

I hadn’t seen him all summer and was worried he hadn’t survived the winter—despite all the peanuts I’d left for him on the fire escape. But there he was, tentatively crossing the street in front of the Know Theatre. Brody and I were out for our morning walk when we spotted the squirrel, who appeared to be carrying something in his front paws. Food, I assume. Neither animal took much notice of the other. Rocky, especially, seemed oblivious to the presence of the not-so-vicious dog. Perhaps he’s familiar with the city’s leash law and understood he was in no danger.

There is, however, another rodent I’m worried about: Templeton the Rat. And I worry even knowing that rats can carry the Black Plague. Until recently, Templeton had been living beneath a sewer grate in an alley just one building over from mine. Templeton, unlike Rocky, is nocturnal and uses the cover of darkness to feast on the leftover food in a dumpster positioned right above the sewer grate. This arrangement has clearly worked in Templeton’s favor, his build being more that of an offensive lineman, in contrast to Rocky, whose lean figure is reminiscent of an Olympic marathoner. But why the obvious difference in Body Mass Index?

Here’s why:

Whereas Rocky, in order to reach the peanuts on my fire escape, is forced to traverse a suspended path of electric wires, Templeton had easy access to the food in the dumpster via a rusty hole in its base. In addition to the dumpster food, Templeton would clean up on the weekends, when holidaymakers and panhandlers alike leave discarded food on any available flat surface. Indeed, one evening early this summer I witnessed Templeton dragging an entire pork chop down the street and into his alley lair.

So, one might ask, what’s the problem?

Though I’ve made the fire escape peanuts available, thus far this summer I’ve not witnessed Rocky partaking of the potential stash, though I have noticed some peanuts go missing. Now, I am no expert on gray squirrel behavior, but I’m hoping the peanuts have been mostly untouched because he’s just not ready to gather yet. Maybe there’s a specific gathering season of which I’m unaware. Regardless, I was just happy to see him crossing the street, to see him still among the living. The interweb told me that, in the wild, the average lifespan for Rocky’s breed is only a few years. Six years if he’s lucky. I don’t know his birthday so, as far as I know, he may already have exceeded the average.

Also, while Rocky and Templeton both face daily existential challenges, I actually believe Templeton’s day-to-day livelihood to be somewhat more fragile by comparison. Rocky, unlike his rodent cousin, lives above the fray. Though there are, of course, dangers to living in the trees, his arboreal existence gives him choices that Templeton doesn’t have. For instance, Rocky can descend to the street below, for the most part, at his discretion. I understand squirrels are rather clever, so I imagine Rocky taking stock of his surroundings before venturing into the world of man. Picking his spots, as it were.

Templeton, on the other hand, lives in a far more dangerous environment. He is daily exposed to the vagaries of life at street level. Sure, living under the sewer grate gives him a place to which he can escape when danger is afoot, but what happens down there during a rainstorm? Additionally, his main food source has recently been eliminated. A couple weeks ago, the trash company replaced the rusty dumpster with one less leaky. To find food, Templeton must now venture out from the safety of the alley.

And venture out he has. My last Templeton encounter, not long after the pork chop incident, was me spotting him running for safety under one of the corner trash receptacles. It was a busy Friday night and foot traffic abounded. I felt bad for the little guy, dodging one shrieking lass after another. It appeared he’d been forced out of his alleyway lair, probably due to all the construction occurring in the building right next door. Poor guy.

Now, you may be asking yourself, why doesn’t this idiot just call the city pest control people? 

Well, I thought of that, at least when I first discovered Templeton. I figured if there’s one rat there’s probably more. But I didn’t see more, and my attitude softened, especially after realizing it wasn’t likely he carried the Black Plague. So, I let it go. Live and let live and whatnot.

In the end, I realize, it’s really all about survival. Me, my furry rodent friends, and myriad other creatures, including humans, are just trying to survive day by day, and if I have the time and wherewithal to leave some peanuts on the fire escape, and maybe toss the occasional pork chop into the alley, then so be it. For my part, with my karmic slate a little more balanced, I sleep better at night.

At least as long as I don’t catch the Plague.