The Squirrel

THE SQUIRREL

It was a nice quiet Saturday morning. One of those mornings that you
wish could go on forever. Kicked back on the recliner with my feet up.
One of my socks half off. Perusing the newspaper while the steam rose
off that first cup of hot coffee.
"Ahhhh, this is what I work for all week." I thought to myself. These
moments of total relaxation and pure bliss as I read the comics without
a care in the world.
I had a 'James Taylor' CD on. There was a cool breeze blowing the
curtains ever so lightly.
I sipped what had to be the perfect cup of coffee and all was right
with the world.
Just when I thought I'd discovered the Zen state of mind and had moved
on to another plane of consciousness, I heard it. The creature that
decided this would be a good day to move in.
Nobody invited him or even graciously offered him a temporary stay for
a few days just until he could find something more suitable to his
liking.
No, he just found himself an opening and started storing all his
valuables. Mostly nuts from the sound of it. He was constantly dropping
them while he ran along the eaves.
Our uninvited guest was a squirrel.
"What is that noise?" my wife asked as she came in from the
kitchen.
"It's a squirrel that got into the eaves and seems to be using it for
a running track." I told her, biting my lip. A sure sign that my inner
enlightenment would have to wait for another day.
"Can it get in the house?" she asked with a worried tone in her
voice.
"As far as I'm concerned, he already is in the house!"
He wasn't actually in the house, per say. He found a hole beneath the
roof and the eaves that seemed to say-in his mind-"WELCOME" in a big
flashing neon sign.
A nice, flat runway for our little invader so he could scamper along
at lightning speed as he tried to negotiate the corners, usually
banking off them adding to his little orchestra of racket that would
end in a crashing crescendo.
I've always been an admirer of the independent spirit but not when it
affects my morning bliss. To hear those little claws of his scratching
his way along the wood as he ran back and forth was a disturbance of my
peace- and it was going to stop.
Oh, yes. I was serving notice, as of immediately if not sooner, one
'said squirrel' in question was hereby ordered to vacate the premises.
Failure to do would result in the full extreme measure of the law. That
was me! There's a new sheriff in town!
I went outside to begin my investigation. I spotted the hole that he
used for his front door. I could seal that up, but I knew I'd have to
get him out first. I looked around and finally decided that a broom
would do nicely for what I had in mind. No, I wasn't going to beat him
to death; (although.......hmmm.... no.....too messy) I just wanted to
make some noise.
I unwittingly became his aerobics instructor. I'd bang the broom
handle on one end of the eave and chase him down to the other where in
theory; he would come out of the hole and out of my life. But he didn't
see the plan as well as I did. He just ran from one end to the
other.
Once in a while, he'd stick his fuzzy, little head out of the hole,
and peer at me with those beady-eyes of his just to see who the crazy
lunatic was, that was now disturbing his happy home. Then he'd resume
his work out as I followed with the broomstick. I was getting a pretty
good work out myself.
This went on long enough for my neighbor Bob, to come out and practice
his stand up comedy routine.
"What's up John? Ya checkin' for termites?"
"Morning".......(huffing)..... "Bob"........(puffing).."I got
a".......(gasping)... "squirrel in my"..(coughing)....... "eaves." I
managed to say in between gulps of well-needed oxygen.
"When I saw ya runnin' back and forth with that broom, I thought ya
had bats in your bell- frey!" He said as I tried to catch my
breath.
"No", I told him as I sat down to let my blood pressure drop. "He's
the one who's crazy if he thinks he's going to take up residence in our
house!"
"Well, ya know".... (Every time Bob started a sentence with 'well, ya
know', I knew he was just about to enlighten me with his vast knowledge
of every problem a homeowner can have)
...." squirrels are very territorial and once they decide they wanna
live there. Ya cant' get 'em out! He's probably already stored his nuts
in there and figures it's a great place to raise a family." Bob said
with a big grin across his face.
"Well, he can just un store his nuts and take his little,
territorial-tail into the woods where he can raise all the families he
wants. But it aint gonna happen here, Brother!" I told him and anyone
within earshot. Hopefully, this included the animal kingdom of the
neighborhood.
"I don't know why I bought a satellite dish", Bob said. "When I got
you for a neighbor!"
He walked back into his house, chuckling to himself and obviously
pleased with what he considered a quick wit. Bob's feeble attempt at
humor wouldn't deter me from my task at hand.
If at first, you don't succeed.......so I stuck with my plan of
action, wearing down a trail by the side of our house, and building up
my cardiovascular system. Out of the corner of my eye, I'd catch Bob
pushing the curtains aside and checking on my progress.
My efforts finally paid off and I successfully coaxed him out of the
hole where he jumped up onto the roof and scampered over to the
telephone line. This was his escape route back to the trees. He would
have made the flying Wallendas proud as he ran that line like he was on
solid ground. Hah! I had him on the run!
"You better keep going you little @#$\%&;*!!!!" I yelled to make
sure that I had put the fear of God into him. "And tell all your furry
friends that I am a force not to be reckoned with!
I found some scrap wood in the garage and hammered the hole shut so
there would be no more attractions to this or any other rodent in the
neighborhood. Bob, included!
I walked back into the house with my chest out and my head held
high.
"Well?" my wife asked.
"Well, what? You doubted me? A lowly rodents mind is no match for mans
brilliant computer like brain! That's why God gave us dominion over all
the animals. It's in the bible....somewhere.
Check under the part about Noah. That's when God had to make it clear
to squirrels, 'Don't mess with Noah or his ark, especially on a
peaceful Saturday morning!', he told them. And to this day, that law
still applies!"
I went about the rest of my Saturday enjoying the peace and quiet that
I had so rightfully earned.

The following morning, as I was pouring my first cup of coffee, I
heard it.
SCRITHCIE-SCRATCHIE-SCRITCHIE-SCRATCHIE-SCRIIIIIITCCCCCCCHHHHHHIE!
I ran outside and there, much to my dismay, was a fresh hole in the
new wood big enough for a trespassing squirrel to fit through! I had
obviously under estimated his small brain. Could it be he's smarter
than the average squirrel?
By this time, my wife had come up behind me. "Well, Noah?"
Another aspiring comedian in the neighborhood. Maybe her and Bob could
go on the road.
"Get the yellow pages and we'll call some sort of 'animal control.,'"
she sensibly suggested.
"Not necessary, my loving and supportive wife! I merely misjudged the
fortitude of this little fellow. Now that I know who I'm up against, I
can rethink my strategy and devise a new plan. Now, before you roll
your eyes at me, let us not forget my past victories.
One! When we had ants in the house, who was it that put out the terro
with signs strategically placed around the house saying 'FREE DRINKS
FOR ANTS-FOLLOW THE SIGNS!'
"That had to be you." She painfully admitted.
"Two! When we had that little infestation of 'Lady bugs', who was it
that worked the fly swatter like a ninja killer until all of them lay
dead on the floor? (Except for the ones break-dancing that were merely
wounded.)
"You again, Bruce Lee." She responded with just a touch of sarcasm in
her voice
"Give the lady a cigar! And....... last but certainly not least,
you've forced me to bring up my greatest victory! I don't like to brag,
but when the bird got into the house through the furnace, who corralled
him to a basement window, pulled the shade down, duct taped the shade
to the wall, then ran outside and cut the screen open, freeing him back
to the wild blue yonder where nature intended him to be?"
She just stood there with her head hung in shame. What else could she
do? I felt a little bad that I had to point out my past successes but
she left me no choice. I went back to get the broom and much to Bob's
delight, was back pounding the bottom of the eaves. He must have wanted
to document my tried and true method of squirrel removal, as he now had
his camcorder rolling.

My next plan of attack was spraying WD-40 around the hole and gutter
so when my nemesis tried to get back in, his little claws would slip,
forcing him to lose his grip and fall on his head. It was foolproof! I
thought it was, anyway. How would I know that this particular squirrel
had Velcro feet.
Plan B made more sense. Plus, I read about it in a "Fix every problem
that can ever happen to you." book by time-life. They suggested using
mesh wire over the hole. Can't be chewed!
Surely this would be the answer I had been looking for! This one
couldn't miss! Time-life even backed it up with a 90-day guarantee! I
don't know that it applied to me since I got the book at a garage sale.
But there was something that they hadn't even counted upon.
And that was, that this particular squirrel would just find a nice
chewable wood surface past the wire screen and re-enter my eaves. I
couldn't help but notice that each new hole grew in size and the shape
became more architecturally designed. I wasn't sure, but the latest one
appeared to have a tiny mailbox hooked to the gutter.
Now I was desperate! If this went on any further, he'd be charging us
rent by the end of the month!
Plan C was my last resort. It involved the "Yellow Pages" and "Animal
Control". I have to give the wife some of the credit for this one.
Although it was my idea to call on the cordless-phone directly
underneath the squirrel's sanctuary so he would know that now we were
serious!
I wanted to give him once last chance to pack his bags but he called
our bluff.
The man pulled his little truck (with the fake gopher on the roof)
into our driveway and I yelled to the squirrel who was now doing the
fox trot over my head, "We have company! You goin' down, sucka! I gave
you every opportunity to leave peacefully and now the party's over pal,
Yippie Ki Yae, wood-chomper!!!"
I informed my hired assassin of the situation and asked for a full
report on how we should go about catching the little vermin. He seemed
to be thinking long and hard while he scribbled my address on his
clipboard before he shared his vision with me.
"Trap 'em." He said as chewing tobacco spilled down his chin.
"Hmmmmm....yes....a trap....it just might work! All right, we'll do it
your way!" I told him as this cold-blooded, mercenary-killer climbed up
on the roof and placed the cage where the squirrel couldn't miss
it.
He then took out a jar of peanut butter, extra crunchy I believe, and
spooned out a generous helping into the trap. What followed was
guaranteed to insure our success! He took three shelled peanuts and
stuck each one into the peanut butter, standing them straight up at
different angles, creating an architectural, irresistible peanut-butter
delight that even had my mouth watering.
Being a man of few words, (as most of these 'ice-water in the veins'
hit men were, he took his ladder, got into his gopher truck and
left.
I stared at the trap of imminent doom- more than happy to accommodate
my large-tailed friend.
"Oh, yes, this will do rather nicely! Eat, drink and be merry, for
tomorrow, YOU DIE!!!!
MUHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
I noticed my wife looking through the kitchen window, slowly shaking
her head.

I lay in bed that night, tossing and turning. I couldn't sleep. I was
too excited wondering when that little peanut-butter temptation would
overpower the tremendous fortitude of this super- squirrel that had so
cleverly out smarted me time and time again. Maybe he was too smart for
this? Maybe he would take a long stick and use it as a spoon to fish
out the peanuts and the peanut butter, leaving a note saying, 'Better
luck next time, punk!'
Just when I was considering running outside and removing all the long
sticks in sight, I heard it!
"KLANK!" That was it! That was the door of the trap! He was in
custody! It was over!
I woke up my wife to tell her the good news but I guess she was too
groggy to appreciate the impact of this historical moment. She
suggested that I sit up on the roof and stand guard so it doesn't
escape, then went back to sleep. I considered it, after all, this
squirrel had teeth like a chain saw. Would that cage hold him?

The next morning I ran out to see my prisoner still behind bars, with
no chance for parole.
I felt it was my duty to inform him that any escape attempts would be
futile and only make it worse for him in the long run.
Bob was getting his morning paper.
"Hey Colonel Klink, why don't ya tell him that 'no prisoner has ever
escaped Stalag 13!'"
"Hey Bob, why don't ya cinch up that robe before ya pick up your
morning paper. The city has laws, ya know!"
"Oh, pardon me, I just didn't expect any one to be out here at six in
the morning reading 'Miranda rights' to a squirrel!"
He went back into his house, totally oblivious to the fact that I had
just removed a dangerous rodent from the neighborhood. Parents wouldn't
have to keep the kids inside anymore, now that this carnivorous killer
was under lock and key! This would benefit us all and most likely raise
the property values! Perhaps if I dropped the hint, they could all chip
in and get me a nice gift.
As I gazed back up to prisoner 00001, (no names now, you're just a
number, boy!) I noticed that his nose was all scuffed and cut from
trying to get the door open. He was shivering and his eyes had the
saddest look I had ever seen on a squirrel. I had won, and he wasn't
handling it very well. A 'warrior' squirrel like this one obviously had
a lot of pride and now....... was just another animal in a cage.
I walked back in the house having trouble adjusting to my role as the
new warden but I knew that the call had to be made.
"Hello, your people set a trap at my place yesterday and it caught a
squirrel last night. When can you come to pick it up?"
"Well, we're pretty busy right now. We should be out in the next
couple of days or so. It aint' goin' anywhere." He was an expert at
stating the ridiculously obvious and not just the merely.
"Well, all right." I said, "Oh, by the by, do you guys ever just
release them somewhere they won't come back?" I asked.
"No, why take the chance that they'd make trouble for someone else. We
put them to sleep.
Sometimes with exhaust fumes or just dropping the cage under water.
Well, like I said, we're busy here, so we'll see ya in a few!"
The phone went dead and I never got a chance to say good-bye to Adolf
Hitler.
Exhaust fumes? Drownding? I guess I just assumed that they would use
lethal injection after letting the squirrel spend some time with his
family and having a last meal. They were pretty quick to dismiss the
'rehabilitation' I suggested.
I went back outside to check on my scared little friend who now was
just sitting there watching a bunny run across the yard, thinking to
himself that he was now incarcerated. There would be no more running
for him. I fell into a state of heavy introspection, looking for an
answer that would remove the squirrel's blood from my hands. Should I
grant him a pardon? Or let the evil 'animal control' devils take his
life?
"No! I don't think so! Not in this country!" I yelled to anyone that
would gather around my soapbox.
"We should all be free to enjoy our God given rights! Be it Maaaaaaan
or squirrel! Freedom and life are gifts that should be cherished and
nurtured! Are we to sit in cages waiting for death? I THINK
NOT!!!!"
I grabbed my ladder and climbed up on the roof. With the strength of
many, I lifted the cage and carried it to my car like a man with a
mission! Driving until I had finished both sides of my 'Best of the
Sugar Bears" tape, I stopped the car near a big field by some
woods.
"This is it!" I thought setting the cage down and popped open the
squirrels 'gate to freedom'.
All that exercise in my eaves really paid off as he ran like an Olympic
champion toward those woods until he became a mere speck on the horizon
and disappeared from view. I drove home with a clear conscience,
knowing that I had preserved a life.

When the gopher truck finally came back three days later, I was ready
with my story.
"I guess he escaped!" I told him with the same look I had as a child
when I'd tell my Mother that the dog ate all the cookies.
"Escaped?" He asked as his eyebrows went up and more tobacco spilled
down his chin.
"Yep, pulled the old Houdini on us! The peanut butter treat must have
given him the protein he needed to release the latch and lift the door
up!" (Yea, that's the ticket, the peanut butter, yea, yea, that's the
ticket!)
"Gee, he also decided to turn the cage around too, isn't that odd?" He
asked me with a look that said, 'Don't you have something to tell
me?'
Wow, this guy wasn't as dumb as he looked. He had me and he knew it.
But I had come this far. I would just have to ride out this little
charade as long as I could. I looked him straight in the eye and
said......."What do I owe ya?"
"Well, technically, we caught your squirrel, and the contract says
once it's caught, we have to charge ya. There's nothin' in the manual
about a 'super-intelligent squirrel' that uses 'peanut butter induced
strength' to lift the door and escape. That'll be $97.64 cents, labor
and materials."
Another joker. Maybe him, my neighbor and my wife could all get
together for a 'Hoot-fest'!
I wrote him a check and he went on to the next job.
I think of that squirrel now from time to time and I'm sure he thinks
of me.
We shared a bond that can never be broken.
We respected each other and we've both changed in ways that will
affect the rest of our days.
Sometimes when I'm having a peanut buster parfait, I remember him in
his cage and a tear will roll down my face. Not a tear of sadness, but
a tear of joy knowing I gave him back his life and he gave me a wee bit
of dignity that I will carry with me as a badge of honor for the rest
of my days.