OK, here's the deal about squirrels
Repeat after me. Squirrels are nasty.
Well, they are. They're cute rats, that's all. Vermin with good PR. I had to murder a squirrel once (imagine the scene with the mad dog in TO KILL A MOCKINGBIRD, except the dog is a squirrel and Gregory Peck is me and instead of a gun I have a stick) and the harrowing experience may have scarred me--I freely admit this--but still. Squirrels are gross and they sort of freak me out.
And, lately, they are EVERYWHERE.
This is no doubt due to the imminent seasonal changes and their imperative to collect as many nuts and acorns as they can. I understand this. But they are roving in gangs, dashing hither and yon on their little squirrelly, clawy, dirty feet and leaping around overhead on tree branches and STARING AT ME.
Yeah. They just stand there staring sometimes. I have witnessed this personally. This is kind of horrific to me, because their beady eyes are so glassy and unblinking and intent, and not friendly. They're plotting something. They know I'm on to them; that I don't buy into the "aw-look at-that-adorable-squirrel" propaganda.
Chipmunks are different. They are cute. Whimsical, even. They look like they know how to have fun. T and I were walking in the neighborhood a few days ago and we saw a chipmunk on a stone wall, enjoying the sun. I think it smiled at us. We stopped, and cooed idiotically for a minute or two. Would a squirrel smile at us? IT WOULD THE HELL NOT. It would glare malevolently, like a rat, its brethren.
I woke up this morning with the icky remnants of a squirrel-dream in my head. That's where this diatribe is coming from, I think. See? They even infest dreams. They are nasty filthy verminous ratlike little Freddy Kruegers. That's my story, and I'm sticking to it.
Well, they are. They're cute rats, that's all. Vermin with good PR. I had to murder a squirrel once (imagine the scene with the mad dog in TO KILL A MOCKINGBIRD, except the dog is a squirrel and Gregory Peck is me and instead of a gun I have a stick) and the harrowing experience may have scarred me--I freely admit this--but still. Squirrels are gross and they sort of freak me out.
And, lately, they are EVERYWHERE.
This is no doubt due to the imminent seasonal changes and their imperative to collect as many nuts and acorns as they can. I understand this. But they are roving in gangs, dashing hither and yon on their little squirrelly, clawy, dirty feet and leaping around overhead on tree branches and STARING AT ME.
Yeah. They just stand there staring sometimes. I have witnessed this personally. This is kind of horrific to me, because their beady eyes are so glassy and unblinking and intent, and not friendly. They're plotting something. They know I'm on to them; that I don't buy into the "aw-look at-that-adorable-squirrel" propaganda.
Chipmunks are different. They are cute. Whimsical, even. They look like they know how to have fun. T and I were walking in the neighborhood a few days ago and we saw a chipmunk on a stone wall, enjoying the sun. I think it smiled at us. We stopped, and cooed idiotically for a minute or two. Would a squirrel smile at us? IT WOULD THE HELL NOT. It would glare malevolently, like a rat, its brethren.
I woke up this morning with the icky remnants of a squirrel-dream in my head. That's where this diatribe is coming from, I think. See? They even infest dreams. They are nasty filthy verminous ratlike little Freddy Kruegers. That's my story, and I'm sticking to it.