The Disenchanted Squirrel

Up at 10 am, for I am a good boy.
We all went shopping because whichever parent does it, we always get too much of one thing and none of the other. We combined our efforts and still ended up buying duplicates of toothpaste etc.
Our trip for the day was to Milton Cemetery (livin' it up) to feed the squirrels. I have fed many squirrels in many places and am generally good at it: I am small, assume a non-threatening pose and hold out nutty comestibles and the little chaps come running to feed on my proffered fare, tickling my hand with their little tiny fingers.

We've tried them out on many items, they'll take most things Jof finds in her handbag but I can tell you they don't like Kit Kats. Today we bought some cheapo mixed nuts and took along some out-of-date breadsticks, you never know.
But today they were hiding. We could see them in the distance, but they would hop off and not just climb trees, but also leave the vicinity by disappearing over walls, fences etc. We left a trail of nuts and breadstick crumbs but only the magpies, gulls and crows took notice. We left nuts on taps, gravestones, in crevices in trees, benches and more, but nary a squiggle took the bait. I believe that since the eastern half of St Mary's Hospital grounds was turned into a school, the squiggles have been terrorized by teenagers and now have post-traumatic stress disorder, and fear the humans that once fed them.
Then I played Jof at Totopoly, and only 5 out of 24 horses finished the race, all the others died.