David is thinking about the meat faerie (zoomardav) wrote,
David is thinking about the meat faerie
zoomardav

Squirrels

While Roscoe and I were out for our morning walk, there was a huge commotion in the tree over us. The squirrels were involved in a vicious turf war. Bits of leaves and branches were falling all around us, Roscoe took no notice. There was a particularly intoxicating urine coated bush that he couldn't be bothered to stop sniffing.

One squirrel shot down the tree in some kind of berserker squirrel panic run. It hit the ground running straight at me. Its eyes were huge, but it was all from adrenalin, the actual squirrel was in a blind "flee" response. A bigger squirrel shot down close behind making some kind of horrible "EHEHEHEHEHE!" noise, but stopped short of actually leaving the tree.

The sissy, scaredy squirrel ran straight into Roscoe's side. Roscoe, who obviously has the soul of a lion, tilted his head a few degrees toward the squirrel, sneezed on it and immediately went back to his bush.

I was scared for two reasons. One, I didn't want the squirrel to climb me and perhaps cause some kind of weird tiny claw damage to me. I imagined my neighbors looking out their windows across the street and seeing me trying to fight off a squirrel that had made its way up my leg and was moving toward my face as I tried to hit it off with multiple girly slaps to my own chest.

Two, if a squirrel did actually climb on me, Nancy might never let me touch her again. In her mind, squirrels are The Filthiest of All Animals(TM). A lot of people see cute fluffy tails when they look at a squirrel, but to Nancy that tail is basically a disease magnet filled with every uncleanliness known and if a squirrel gets close to you, nothing would make the squirrel happier than to rub that tail all over your face and use it like a pipe cleaner in your nose and mouth.

At the very least, I would have to undergo some kind of complicated cleansing ritual. Bleach would be involved.

But, Roscoe's sneeze seemed to bring the squirrel back to reality. It stood prone, frozen by the imposing pug in front of it. Roscoe peed and then began scratching grass on the squirrel.

The squirrel ran off in the other direction, defeated again.

The bull squirrel was now up in the tree again, it was making that sound again, "HEHEHEHEHE!" I leaned over and rubbed Roscoe's ear. I don't think he knows it, but he probably moved up one place in the neighborhood pecking order this morning.
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