and we are not celebrating at Casa de Kolchak. If you want to celebrate Squirrel Appreciation Day, then you are barking up the wrong tree. Head on over to I Still Want More Puppies. Pup Fan & Bella have assembled a whole list of
Not here at Casa de Kolchak. We aren’t celebrating. We *are not* allowed to celebrate squirrels here. As far as the Mama is concerned, there is only one appropriate way to react to a squirrel.
Do not fool around. Just get it.
The Mama has some sort of weird prejudice against
those rotten little vermin squirrels.
It’s a funny story actually. Well, by funny, I bet YOU find it funny. The Mama doesn’t find it funny. For a lady who is half-cracked and apt to laugh off the worst that life can throw at her, she has a startling lack of humour when it comes to
rats with designer tails squirrels.
Once upon a time, the Mama lived alone.
In one of those weird houses where you live with other people, but you don’t really live with other people? It’s kind of like a kennel, but for humans. What do they call it??? Oh! An apartment. This apartment was old as dirt and late at night the Mama would hear things skittering in the attic above and she’d be scared woofless. It was
It was a dark and scary night.
The Mama was all alone. This was in the pre-Daddy days. The Mama refers to them as “the good ol’ days”, but I am pretty sure she is joking – or at least I hope she is, for the Daddy’s sake. The Mama heard the tell-tale skittering over head and thought, “It’s time to move.” Then, she heard it. A thud. A moment of silence and then, the worst sound ever.
Have you ever heard a squirrel scream?
It’s the highest pitched, most terrifying sound ever. Seriously. It sounds like some one is torturing an elf. It’s awful. Why the bark was it making that noise? The Mama investigated and found it. It had fallen down inside the wall. It was trapped in there. The Mama’s heart softened just a little, as she called animal control to help her get it out. Their advice?
Call an exterminator.
Poor squirrel. It wasn’t his fault that he was a clumsy oaf that had fallen down the rabbit hole. What they had offed Alice right at the beginning of the story? They might never have slain the Jabberwock. So the Mama, full of wide-eyed idealism decided she was going to be the squirrel’s champion and set him free.
Sad, sweet, stupid Mama.
She pulled off the baseboard and cut a squirrel sized hole. He scampered out, blinked in the bright light of the hallway, then went absolutely ape sh*t. The Mama managed to
stay out of his way corral him long enough to steer him towards the wide open sliding glass door. Terrified (and a little grossed out) the Mama cleaned the hall carpets, which Mr. Whiskers had thoroughly soiled during his 10 minute reign of terror and went to bed. She was awoken at 4:30 am by the eerie sound of a squirrel trapped in a dungeon wall. She set him free, scrubbed the hall (again) and decided that she might as well go to work. She was up anyways.
Fast forward 12 hours.
She unlocks her door and is met with an overwhelming stench. It smelled like she had a dead body in the apartment. She looked around and she was shocked by what she saw. Squirrel. ***Everywhere*** Squirrel on the TV, munching on a cracker. A squirrel climbing the curtains. Several, just sitting on the floor, shocked the Mama had come home. One of them was on the couch, napping. (He must have been all tuckered out from the PARTY.) Squirrels in every room of the house. About 15 in all. The place was destroyed. She chased them out the back door, crying like a fountain. As she swept the last one out of her life, another one appeared and the Mama discovered the breach of security. A squirrel had fallen down between the studs and since the Mama wasn’t home to free it, it clawed a three foot wide hole in the wall.
For real. The Mama can`t imagine why she didn’t take pictures.
It was woofing surreal. The Mama surveyed her once beautiful apartment. Damage assessment? Total. Every piece of fabric in the house was shredded. The floor was littered and reeking of squirrel droppings. Someone had peed on the bed. (If I tried that, I would be toast.) Every box in the pantry had been ripped open and sampled. They chewed the legs of the tables, for woofing out loud. There was nothing, just nothing that the Mama could save. She sat down in the middle of the filth and she cried and cried and cried. She should have called the exterminator. Darn her soft animal-loving heart.
She moved in with the Daddy that day.
The “bachelorette pad” was ruined and it smelled like urine. Her hatred of
those diseased little mutants squirrels has grown and multiplied every season. The sound of claws skittering is enough to make her blood run cold. She still gets misty eyed when she talks about her apartment and they are days when she wishes she could go “home”.
There ain’t nothin’ to appreciate about a squirrel.
Just ask Mama.