Red

Red

"Now when you see her think red squirrel" my not as then husband told
me.
I have quite a vivid imagination but it was not a hard task. I wanted
to impress and remained calm, politely saying hello. It wasn't until
later when she passed me the nuts that I let out a little sman into
my gin and tonic.

She was red for quite a while, then she went brown and then
disturbingly blond.
My mother did the same thing, defying age with a vibrant chestnut only
to turn blond, followed by a controlled period of fading until the grey
was allowed to take over again.

Going grey twice must be so hard, yet inevitable if one's to retain
some dignity. After all an eighty year-old red squirrel would be
something to giggle at.

I can remember once my mother being complemented on the lovely colour
of her hair. "It's dyed you know - I'm totally grey under this." "Mmmh"
was the response, as though that was a given, and the complement was
rather meant for the choice of colour than any thing else. For my part
I can remember thinking why dye it if your going to tell everyone your
grey anyway. But that was then.

The red squirrel has alopecia now, a thinning of the hair due to
stress. It's rather sad really as she's so small.