I’m onto you, CSU.
Written by Sophie Farrar
As summer ended and the return of school approached, one of the things I looked forward to most was seeing the CSU squirrels scurry across campus greenspaces once again. Watching the squirrels on my walk to class was one of my favorite things to do last school year, and I couldn’t wait to see them this fall.
Don’t get it twisted — CSU squirrels are not just your everyday, typical squirrel. They are beasts. Living downtown off a diet of trash and stolen food from students is no easy feat. CSU squirrels have to be braver, bolder, and burlier – and they are. One might even say that they could survive anything. But when I returned to campus this fall, the little monsters were nowhere to be found. Where the &#@% were the squirrels?!
I was concerned to say the least. Where were my little buddies? I didn’t see them in the grass, on the sidewalk, in the trees. Not one squirrel spotted burying a nut or sprinting across Euclid Avenue. For three long weeks, I did not see a single squirrel on campus. Were they mad at me? Did I do something wrong? Where did they go?
I voiced my qualm to my friends. They claimed they had seen squirrels consistently all over campus, but this made no sense to me. We had classes at the same times, in the same buildings, even some with one another. We often made the same commutes across campus, and frequently did so together. Something had to be amiss. Why were they seeing the squirrels and I wasn’t? I felt heartbreak and betrayal like never before. I just wanted to see the squirrels again. Why couldn’t I?
Then, suddenly, they were back. Almost immediately after I voiced my concern out loud to my friends, I started seeing the squirrels around campus again. There they were: hanging out of trash cans, running up trees, targeting students in the courtyard. It was as if they were never even gone! One might think that I was happy to see the squirrels once again. Satiated. Pleased. But I was not. I was suspicious. You’re telling me I don’t see a single squirrel on campus for three whole weeks, and then suddenly they appear again as soon as I share this fact with my friends? Yeah, right.
I know what you’re thinking. “Sophie, you obviously started seeing the squirrels again because you were actively thinking about them. They were never gone, you just didn’t realize they were there because they weren’t at the forefront of your mind.” Wrong. The CSU squirrels are always the top thought on my mind. Lest you forget, I couldn’t wait to see them when I returned to campus this fall. Clearly, foul play was at hand, and CSU was to blame.
You might be wondering how CSU is at fault. You might be wondering why CSU would even want the squirrels gone. Let me explain.
It all started last year, when Laura Bloomberg superseded Harlan Sands as president of the university. If you recall, there were no issues with squirrels disappearing when Sands was president. But alas, the first fall with the new president, the squirrels are gone. It’s almost as if a certain someone has a personal vendetta against them.
In my unbiased eyes, the CSU squirrels can do no wrong. Sure, they’ve been known to cause the occasional mischief, but it’s all in good fun. I, a bystander that has no particular taking to the squirrels, can see that — but not all can. Some people might see one squirrel jump out of a trash can at someone, or one squirrel harass a student for food in the courtyard, and judge all squirrels based off of it. It would be immoral and evil to do so — but rarely does that stop someone from carrying out their heinous plans.
Rumor has it that President Bloomberg heard murmurs of a few delinquent squirrels on campus when she took over last spring and didn’t like the sound of it. In fact, she hated it so much that she made it her main mission as university president to get rid of the campus squirrels for good. (Apparently, President Bloomberg had a personal run in with one of these troublesome squirrels, but you didn’t hear that from me.) She had her plan, but how would she get away with it? How would she get rid of the squirrels with no suspicion? Luckily for President Bloomberg, she had the perfect cover up.
CSU 2.0 was inescapable for some time last year. CSU 2.0 this, CSU 2.0 that — we’ve heard it all before. But what is CSU 2.0 truly about? Have we been fed lies to hide the truth? According to totally real sources close to President Bloomberg, when she took over last spring, she shifted CSU 2.0’s “reimagined future” to one simply without squirrels on campus. Have you noticed how we’ve heard significantly less about CSU 2.0 this year? That’s because it’s no longer what it claimed to be. CSU 2.0 was once a plan to improve campus through investments and initiatives. It was now an operation to rid the campus of its innocent squirrels.
Just like I had heard that President Bloomberg didn’t like the squirrels, she heard that I had noticed their disappearance. She knew that I was catching onto her scheme and that she had to do something. So, she did the only thing that she could. President Bloomberg brought the squirrels back.
Ridding the campus of its squirrels was the most atrocious action CSU could have done. They had no choice but to save face by returning them. In the end, I am thankful that they did, because I really did miss the little guys. But may CSU never forget how I caught onto their scheme, and may they never forget the power of the campus squirrels and their comrades.