Yesterday, I fired up the old grill and got a waft of death. Upon searching around the yard, I found a dead baby rabbit. There are only two things that could have done such a thing (besides my friend Doug who has a large distaste for rabbits - but he has moved to Chicago so we will count him innocent). The first is a cat. There is one neighborhood cat that stays indoors most of the time and has not been known to attack other neighborhood wildlife.
After looking around the yard, I noticed on the very top of the tree in my yard, staring at me as I examined the dead rabbit, was a squirrel. I could see the guilt on his little face... The rabbit itself didn't really concern me - of more importance was the fact that the squirrels had now infiltrated my tiny backyard. That means I have to protect two entrances to my home from the unwanted rodentia.
I was perfectly ok with living with the growing presence of the squirrels. That was until this morning. Allow me to set a little bit of the scene. One of my nemesii in this world is a large vine that grows up the front of my house and along the side of the porch. I hesitate to use the word vine because it is technically classified as a weed. However, it blooms nice little flowers once a year for about a week (which was supposed to happen within the next two weeks here).
The vine grows at an extraordinary rate - so much that it requires more attention than a newborn (to my friends with children - relax, I'm exagerrating). Well, I go out the door this morning for work and I notice that half of the vine is stripped bare - to the bark. I initially thought it was due to the storm we had last night. I was wrong...
When I came home this afternoon, I realized it wasn't the storm, it was the squirrels. The y had decided to make a nest in my vine by stripping all of the leaves from the other half. I arrived home to find six, yes SIX, squirrels sitting on the ledge of my porch and on top of a brick pillar supporting the roof. They were none too pleased with my arrival and started to scurry about to ward me off. Eventually, I emerged victorious and chased them off. Whenever I open my door, I'm waiting for one of them to get spooked and run into my house.
I've also got to be ready for an attack. My neighbor, amused at the situation, told with utmost seriousness how his girlfriend got bitten by a squirrel that jumped off a branch onto her.
The squirrels seem to have taken a break from fighting each other to make some love - unfortunately, they are turning my porch into a brothel.
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