As promised, I think it’s necessary to discuss the totally insane squirrels that notoriously gallivant around Penn’s campus. These bushy-tailed superfreaks can be seen darting between students’ legs, leaping out of garbage cans, and practically flying from tree to tree in the Quad. Basically, they are rodents on Red Bull. And coffee. And speed.

Everyone has his or her own squirrel tale to tell, horror stories so engrained in Penn’s collective psyche that they’ve become urban legends in their own rights. There’s the one about the squirrel that leapt out of a trashcan and over the shoulder of a student innocently recycling his soda can; the one about the girl who woke up with a squirrel perched on her chest; and the one about the two girls who witnessed frighteningly acrobatic squirrel sex near the gym (that was me, actually).

So, whether you love them or hate them, you have to wonder: why must we coexist with such odd little creatures at Penn? There are a few theories that I, along with my squirrel-fearing friends, have concocted.

I recently learned, much to my chagrin, that Philadelphia has the dirtiest water in the country. Perhaps that may be why our squirrels are so nuts (pun intended)? However, that being said, my roommate drinks Philly tap water all the time and rarely feels the need to scare the crap out of passing students by rolling off a rooftop and landing with a “splat” in the middle of Locust Walk.

The more likely explanation to the squirrel question is that our furry collegiate friends are just so accustomed to being around people that absolutely nothing, except maybe the BB gun I’m tempted to purchase, fazes them anymore.