July 20, 2007

Why Couldn't It Have Been A Rabbit?

I love the outdoors. Especially when it stays there. While out two days ago, my cell phone rang. "There's a squirrel in the kitchen!" said my son Marc. "Why?" I asked. If you knew my sons, that's really not such a lame question.

"I don't know! There's a freakin' squirrel in the kitchen, and Maggie is going nuts! I think she caught it!". Maggie is the brave cat. JoJo was hiding in the basement, like a good guard cat. I raced home, scared to open the door. All was quiet. But it was quiet like Stephen King novel-quiet. I tiptoed around, waiting for a squirrel to launch onto my face. Marc was back up on the computer upstairs. Apparently, his entire duty consisted of calling me, then leaving the room.

I sent him to find our brave neighbour, Jan. Jan feeds squirrels. By hand. I think he names them. As far as I'm concerned, it was probably one of his squirrels anyway.
We both got flashlights, and creeped around like the Hardy Boys looking for a squirrel. I warned him if I found it, there would be much screaming. "What colour is it?" I yelled. "Black," replied Computer Boy.

We couldn't figure out how it got in, hence we couldn't figure out how it may have gotten out. I wanted it to have gotten out. You have no idea how many closets and dressers and tables and couches and cabinets you own until there is a squirrel loose in your house. Jan said all kinds of reassuring, but stupid, things like "well, a squirrel would have gone up, not down" and "the cats aren't acting like there's a squirrel in the house" and "I'm guessing (italics mine) it's probably left".
These are all statements it's very easy for the not-sleeping-here person to make.

We finally found a hole in the screen over the kitchen sink (remind me not to store almonds in that basket thing that hangs from the ceiling. It is squirrel bait). Jan laughed, and said the thing must have ripped a way in, tangled with Maggie and shot right back out. He left, though I told him if his phone rang at 2am, it was us. Answer.

The cats came out; the squirrel was gone; Jackson was staying at friends, and missed all the fun. Last night, 24 hours after the Squirrel Olympics were over, Jackson came into my room at midnight. He told me the squirrel was under his bed, he was sure he'd heard it, and even Maggie might have.

I assured him it was gone. And now we no longer have the boogeyman to be afraid of, but we do have the squirrel.


Anonymous Anonymous said...

Maybe the squirrel was pissed by your July 18th blog when you called him boring & old.

July 21, 2007 2:46 PM  
Blogger Lorraine said...

This comment has been removed by the author.

July 21, 2007 4:58 PM  
Blogger Lorraine said...

George Clooney is boring and old.
(Lorraine tapping foot, glancing at the torn screen...)

July 21, 2007 5:15 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

So you want George Clooney to fix the screen? Or crawl through it to get at the nuts in your house?


July 23, 2007 12:57 PM  

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