A year ago today I had my leg cut off

At six in the morning a year ago today I walked into a hospital knowing I wouldn't walk out. It hasn't been a fun year, but so far the sarcoma that made it necessary to cut off my right leg at the hip hasn't been active in my lungs, which is a likely scenario and will kill me within a year if it does. 

Casts of severed limbs in a museum display case.

Today, right before writing this, I heard activity outside my window. I turned to look and a large hawk was there, banging around the hollow cylinder used to thwart seed raids by squirrels, as it tried to land on the cylinder. It slipped off and landed clumsily on the ground.
Hawks, of course, do not eat birdseed, even though they are birds. Is there, I thought, some kind of hawk famine going on I haven't heard about? 
I heated up some frozen meatballs and crutched outside and approached the bird feeder. The hawk flew off. Another hawk was in a tree nearby. An odd sound came from the bird feeder. It took me a few moments to determine that it was coming from the hollow cylinder. I'm not great at identifying animal noises, but I do know that little chuff sound squirrels make when they bark, and it turned out that it was indeed a terrified squirrel in the cylinder, clutching to the iron pole. (Yes, it's interesting that a device meant to deprive squirrels of food was in this case protecting one from a gruesome death.) In addition to its bark, the squirrel was making a pitiful cry. Isn't it odd that humans can know that despite having so little in common with squirrels?

A squirrel hiding from hawks in a bird feeder protection device.

For those of you who hate squirrels, I get it. If they get in your attic or walls it's bad news. But it's a stretch to call them rats with bushy tails. They are, for the record, the most intelligent of all rodents, so give them a little respect for that. And their ability to climb makes the best humans at it look like oafs.
Even though it's chilly here in southeastern Pennsylvania, I sat in a chair to keep the hawks away and waited. After about ten minutes, the squirrel poked its head out, looked around, and ran off to a drain pipe thirty feet away it could fit into if necessary. I didn't know squirrels could run as fast as this one did. When it got to the pipe, which is under some holly trees, it stood as tall as it could, scanning for danger, then scurried into the pipe just in case.
It had clung to that iron rod for a total of about twenty minutes. I admire what creatures will do to survive. Me included.