I went a short hunting trip, at least I call it hunting, it's mostly just camping. I got there Sunday afternoon, but my partner wasn't going to show up until Monday. I just got camp all set up and by then I was all hot and sweaty, so I sat down in my camp chair in the shade with a glass of cold tea. I placed my hat on the ground next to the chair and fell into relax mode. Suddenly, a digger squirrel appeared ten feet to my left. He looked me over, stomped his feet then rolled around in the dust. he looked at me again then rolled in the dust. He did this two more times, until he was completely camouflaged by the dust. Then without warning, he charged! He sent my hat flying and ran right across my semi bare, Chaco clad feet. He stopped just feet away and gave me a good stare down. Satisfied that he had put the fear of God in me he then ran off never to be seen again. Later on, a little after sunset, I was back in my chair about forty yards or less from the creek, watching three wood ducks that had come in, to feed in the shallow pool. I looked up towards the ridgeline for a minute, thinking it was about time to grab an adult beverage and settle in for the night. I looked back to the creek, but the ducks were gone and in their place was a tom cougar just sitting on the far bank watching me. I said, " I hope to hell you're not in cahoots with Rambo squirrel." He just got up and slowly walked away. I guess I am just too fat and greasy for his taste.