January 17, 2007

The Squirrel Cycle

king_squirrel.jpg

I come to you with glad news from the front lines of the great war. For even as I speak does the tide turn in our favor, as the squirrel has been cast out into darkness, and the Heart of Dupont beats again with pride, and renewed vigor.

Verily did I go do battle with the squirrel, it is true. His beady black eyes shewn with wrath, and armed as I was with a broken broom and one of the Express boutique bags that line the floor of the fair lady's lair where the squirrel had taken residence, the outcome was uncertain. Briefly I hesitated before I entered the lair, remembering to don the Hoodie of Bevo—to think about the match's outcome had I not!, for several times did the creature reach for my extremities (though not that extremity), to gnash at them with his razor fangs or claw them with his . . . uh, claws, and once even lunging and landing for a spell on my head seriously like in my hair y'all.

Brave Spencer did second my effort, ready with mighty oven mitt to stand as the West's last best defence should my mission fail. Wettham Saiselgy did consider the matter with great philosphye, no doubt while listening to crystal-clear indie pop from Montreal on his kick-ass new speakers. And lo! was one of the mightiest of our number deceived! Taken in by the dark visions of the squirrel, fearless Wreck, Killer of Rats, turned in confusion on the Lady Catherine. (She was really cool about this and I was and still am so very sorry and glad that she's an understanding roommate and Wreck's so grounded.)

So the battle raged across all four square feet of Catherine's lair, with advantage changing hands e'er between the both of us; and for long did the squirrel evade my sight by taking refuge under the Lady's Helm of Wahoowah. Nearly did I give the animal the tools to bring about his escape, perhaps even victory (I shudder to think), since in my haste to acquire my armor I forgot to close the door again to my lair, which is down the hall (we have four lairs on the top floor), giving the squirrel an avenue of escape when I had chased him from the Lady's realm. Nevertheless, having screamed like a girl only twice, I did capture the squirrel and eject him to the outer darkness. Devil take him!

Posted by Kriston at January 17, 2007 12:29 AM
Comments

Fine work Patriot the world is a safer place as a result of your bravery. The Skwerl menace is on the rise. Be vigilant.
Read updates at Scary Skwerl World. Heads Up

Posted by: fritz at January 17, 2007 8:24 AM

I sure hope the entrance hole is extensively patched, because when cast into the utter darkness, they will make heroic efforts to reenter where they were before; the alternative, for them, is death. This is what catch-and-release, don't-hurt-the-poor-thing-ism fails to take into account: squirrels are highly territorial, and for good reason fear other squirrels, whose territory may be invisible to us but is most likely only a few feet away, so much so that they will expend almost any amount of energy on reentering, on a merely physical barrier, rather than encounter another. My next door neighbor cut his tree down, thereby depriving a family of squirrels of their home. As a consequence, he has fought a running, ten-year battle with multiple generations of this family, who have broken into his garage, now with every square inch of what was once wood wainscotting covered in flashing: no matter, they rip the shingles off the roof to get in. My wife and I, she in the converted house her office at Northwestern is situated in, I in our own attic, have this past year waged epic battles with them. Ours were finally trapped out, and I went with the exterminator with the last trapped squirrel his truck. When he opened the gate, a charnal house of trapped animals was displayed, a nightmare vision.
It might have been better had Wreck killed your squirrel, for he will certainly try to reenter.
(cross-commented at Outtasite)

Posted by: I don't pay at January 17, 2007 10:27 AM

Excellent work, good sir. I am unable to decide which is mightier, your pen (er, Mac) or your sword (er, broomstick).

Posted by: matty at January 17, 2007 11:35 AM

And Fritz one-ups me with the first comment. Skwerls. Only Shellac tops that.

Posted by: Kriston at January 17, 2007 12:23 PM

This is probably why Wreck was so freaked out.

Alternatively, he might have misheard "attack the squirrel" as "attack this girl". A simple and honest mistake, really.

So, one lesson learned is to be very careful to enunciate clearly if for some reason you ever command Wreck to "bite the sky".

NB: Nothing in the above should be construed to be a comment on the relative merits of Jimi Hendrix vs. Stevie Ray Vaughn.

Posted by: M/tch M/lls at January 17, 2007 3:41 PM

Another song.

Posted by: eb at January 17, 2007 4:42 PM

That's why God invented firearms, my friend. When unwanted critters manifest themselves in my domain, I have at them with the atillery. This is how I learned what happens to drywall when you shoot it at close range with a 12 guage. (it disappears, in a neat circle)

I used to live in a farmhouse in Iowa, and we had snakes like crazy in the house. I awoke one morning to my dog barking like a demon posessed. Next I heard a loud hissing, eminating from my bookcase cabinet. I opened the cabinet and there was a 5'long ratsnake hanging down from the ceiling. So I did the natural thing- reached for my shotgun and BOOOOOM! Goodbye Mr. Snake. Also, goodbye Mr. large portion of my wall.

I blasted a 10" diameter hole all the way through the both sides of drywall, through the insulation, and into the adjoining bathroom (there was nobody else in the house of course). But the snake was still a twitchin', so I grabbed my .38 and hammered his head into the spine of "Janson's Art History" (sixth edition, I believe) with a hollowpoint. I believe I hollered something very mature at this point, along the lines of "what's up now, bitch!" In hindsight, this may have been a mistake. I think I still have the book with the hole in it. The landlord never mentioned the huge hole through the wall- which says something about the general state of the house we were living in.

Now don't cry for the snake. This was clearly self-defense. Er...he was very old and in a lot of pain...uh- okay it was murder. So I'm not the most politically correct guy. This was not the only snake to fall in combat in our house, though it was the only one I was responsible for. Of course, this would be an ill-advised method of pest control in the District.

Posted by: amw at January 18, 2007 6:16 PM

Your Blog is so sweet! Your posts give me ideas and I start really thinking. Thank you!

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