Rats With Fur: The Rabid Squirrel Diaries Return

They're back. The freaking lethal, rabid, sent-from-hell-to torture-me squirrels are back. And they are eating our house. 

You think I'm kidding? Take a look at this:

Check out the gnawed wood in the corner and under the eave

This is outside where the squirrel sat and mocked meSometimes I sit in our upstairs window seat and comb Lucy or Olivia. More and more often when I do, I hear the rattle of saber-toothed claws scratching at the walls. Pounding used to scare the squirrels away but no more. Apparently, they've evolved. I pounded on the wall the other day and a squirrel moseyed--swear to God, moseyed--out from under the eaves and sat directly in front of me in the window. He was all attitude and did everything but stick out his tongue at me. 

Bad squirrels! Bad, BAD squirrels!Blair and I were outside yesterday and it was the first time I'd really looked at the damage the squirrels had done. 

"Oh my God!" I said. "What can we do to stop them?"

"BB gun," said Blair. (He was kidding. I think.) 

"We're not shooting squirrels," I said. 

"We need to kill a couple of them, at least," said Blair. "Show them who's boss." 

"So what, we're going to have little squirrel heads on stakes in the yard as a warning?" I asked. "Might there be a Plan B?"

There isn't. We're apparently going to sit at home, like the yuppie wimps we are, and let rodents with fur gnaw our house down to the bare bones. 

Does anyone have any suggestions for ridding ourselves of revenge-seeking squirrels? Anything that doesn't involve a BB gun? (Although I'm warming up to the idea of stakes.) 

Cheers,

Dena

Beware All Squirrels Who Enter Here

The killer squirrels are back. They spend their days scratching away at the barriers we put in place last year to keep them from getting under the eaves of the house. As usual, "Le Blob" and Olivia take no notice of the scrabblings, cat napping next to the window where the squirrels are engaged in covert house-entry operations.

Blair and I were in the car the other day and a squirrel almost darted out in front of us. "Don't do it!" I yelled at the squirrel, and he retreated to the side of the road, unscathed.

"Too bad," remarked Blair. "We could have taken his squooshed body and put it on a spike outside our house as a warning to other squirrels."

"DON'T LET THIS BE YOU," I said laughing. "I love it!"

It sounds mean, but you don't realize the intensity with which area squirrels try to enter our house. I refer you to the 18 Rabid Squirrel Diary entries on this very blog. In fact, my very first entry, ever, on this blog was about rabid killer squirrels. The squirrels out to get us. Never doubt it.

We've got our spike ready, just in case.

Killer Squirrels Never Die... They Just Hibernate Away

They're back. Like an unwanted cold or an unannounced visit from the in-laws, the return each spring of the killer squirrels is never cause for celebration. Yet as I type, there is mad scrabbling in the walls and ceiling surrounding me, and the sound of dirt dropping through our ventilation system. Stupid squirrels. Why can't they take a hint and leave us alone?

I'm putting off calling Critter Control, although I know that's what I'll be reduced to eventually. $150 for a house visit and poison baiting. Never mind that the Harris household has taken a bit of a financial punch this month in terms of cat dental surgery, a new-used car, an eye exam and new contact lenses for me, and just this morning Blair went to the doctor because the cat scratches on his neck is actually a cat bite and inflamed. They gave him a tetanus shot and a 10-day dose of medicine. People, the well is dry.

And ... oh dear God. Something just shuddered in the wall in front of me, right behind the vent. It was the sound a dog makes when it comes out of the water and shakes itself dry. Or the sound a killer squirrel makes before launching itself through a heat vent onto the head of a person sitting at a computer, typing.

Fine, I give. I'm off to call Critter Control right now.

Nervous About New Run

The gentleman I met at Saturday's dinner gave me the name and number of a female runner in the area who's looking for a running partner on Wednesday nights. We spoke last night and are meeting tonight for a trail run. I'm a little nervous.  I don't want to be too slow for her, plus I'm not used to running trails and don't know how that might affect my run. Although actually, I'm looking forward to that aspect of it--something different sounds fun.

She game me the option of running a 5.8 mile trail with "a lot of ups and downs" or a similar trail that's a lot flatter, but has more roots and things to watch out for. It's a question for me of how "up" the ups are. "Hills build character" is my neighbor's mantra, but we both tend to avoid them.

I hope we're a match. I'm in Greensboro every Wednesday and it'd be nice to find a regular running partner.