Elizabeth Moon dashed off:

Frisk, frisk, frisk across the back yard came a young squirrel, flirting
its tail....and then it slowed, and began to dig a hole in which to bury
the pecan.

Flap, flap, flap, into the low branch of the sapling oak behind the
squirrel came the blue jay.

The squirrel buried the nut, patted the surface, and frisked away about
ten feet...the blue jay flew to the hole and began digging with its
beak.

The squirrel whirled around--ACK! in squirrel body language--and charged
the blue jay. GET AWAY FROM MY NUT!

The blue jay flapped back to the little oak with no great concern. The
squirrel dug the nut up--yeah, still there--and reburied it. And again
went away, but not too far. The blue jay came down to dig up the nut.
Back came the squirrel, chittering. A second blue jay dove at the
squirrel, which flinched and backed off.

Yeah, the jay got the nut.

~~~~~~

I also ran across Ian Wallace's blog. A very different writer.