Squirrel Baffle

So you notice that the title of this post is not "Squirrel."  Falling in love with a stinkbug was a stretch, but I just don't think I can fall in love with a squirrel.  Rodent.  Varmint.  Nuisance.  Funny, if it was a chipmunk, maybe I could.  I'm not sure why Chip and Dale have something over Rocket J. Squirrel, unless it's simply a matter of size.  Smaller is cuter?  Whatever.  I am in love with my squirrel baffle.  And in case you are unfamiliar, let me provide a visual:

There's one of my many squirrels, baffled at his inability to get to the birdfeeder.  Would you like to guess how many times he attempted this, only to be baffled again?  Intermittently, he would run up to my side porch, ram his little body against the sliding glass door, and look inside as if to ask me to please come out and remove the baffle.  I am sorry that he was too quick for me to get a picture of his little face in the window.  And I cannot say for sure if it was the same squirrel every time because, you know, they all look alike.  If I was in love with one of them, I would be able to pick him out from among the others.  Because that is a component of love.

And you know something else about love?  It is baffling.  Look at our little squirrel friend.  He is so in love with the birdfeeder, but he cannot have it.  What is it that you love (or have loved) that you cannot have?  What is in your way?  What is it about love that is so baffling?

No wonder we ram our heads against the door and then plead with love to let us in.