My battle with the urban pest known as Sciuridae or the common tree squirrel is well documented. Previous postings can be found here, here, here, and here. If it seems like I have become a bit obsessed, it's ok. I can live with that. Some people have issues with spiders or snakes. Me? I simply want to rid the world of the pestilence that these rats with pretty tails have become.
The thing is, I think they know how much I truly loathe them. It isn't as though I have physically harmed them in any way, shape, or form (yet!) but trust me...they know. They are insidious that way. Those beady little squirrel eyes see all. I do believe that they are starting to concoct new methods of taunting me. I swear by all that is holy that I saw two of them the other day with their thumbs planted squarely in their ears as they mocked me with the squirrel version of "nya nya nya nya nya".
Lately, they have devised something even more diabolical. I think that our property has become the training grounds for the 2013 Squirrel Olympics. (Host city to be determined at a later date.) Squirrels of all shapes, sizes, and colours have been leaping, jumping, diving, and running around our property as if going for the gold was the only purpose in their miserable little squirrel lives.
The mayhem begins promptly at daybreak. Two or three of the creatures have been using the newly screened-in eaves troughs that are mounted directly beneath our bedroom window as their personal practice track for the 100 metre squirrel dash. I hear them scurrying by and squealing with delight as they talk squirrel trash to those who bring up the rear. The morning exercises continue until all members of the team have had their opportunity to break in the new raceway. (A friend has helpfully suggested that we should set up tiny little metal barriers so that they might prepare for the 110 metre hurdles as well. My friends are so very sympathetic to my plight.) I have even taken to timing the little rat-bastards, and to their credit they are improving. It used to take a good two minutes to complete the morning ritual, but they are now down to about a minute and half.
And as if that weren't enough, I have witnessed rehearsals for gymnastics events whereby the little brutes are swinging from the high and uneven bars (depending on the sex of the squirrel, of course) using the tallest tree limbs, all whilst preparing death-defying dismounts filled with twists, somersaults, and backflips. Yesterday I saw a black squirrel dive off of the roof with his eyes fixed firmly on the swimming pool cover. Greg Louganis he wasn't. The dive itself wasn't bad, but I had to deduct two tenths of a point because he didn't quite stick the landing. Honestly, I think that the first freeze might bring out a few squirrel lugers cascading from the downspout.
Please help me. I am going....dare I say it....squirrely!! I just want some peace. If I promise to become a corporate sponsor and offer up all the acorns from my oaks to your cause, can we please take the Squirrel Games to somebody else's home? My sanity is depending upon it.