I think everyone knows how much I detest squirrels. Miserable tree-rats that taunt me and shake their tails and run along electric cables where they know I cannot possibly reach them.
Today, Squirrel came face to face with Me.
I didn't actually catch one, but it was caught just the same. Brett-man set up a trap, a clever metal contraption that he put up on the fence. My Lady made some delicious smelling stuff with peanut butter and put some in the trap. That was late last night.
This morning when I went out, I immediately knew something was happening. I charged into the garden and found the metal trap with a nice fat squirrel inside. This discovery sent me over the edge and I lost my puppy-mind. I barked and whined and shook like I had an affliction. Maybe I did; Squirrel Fever. I had only one thing on my mind:
Must...Kill...Squirrel.
Brett grabbed my collar and tried to haul me away, but I had the strength of 10 dogs and used a low center of gravity to hold my position at the trap. It took both hands and a mighty yank to get me off my feet and out of the garden.
The 'elephant ears' plant got trampled in the excitement. So did the spaghetti squash. So did a few other plants.
I was marched back into the house, but being locked inside was driving me mad. I whined and paced and moaned and barked. "Let me out!" I told the people, but the response was to "Shut UP!!" and "Go lay down!!!" I had unfinished business, so I lay by the door with my nose by the crack under it and tried to snuff up as much squirrel-smell as I could. He was still there, out in the garden still trapped in the metal cage.
At my mercy.
Which I have none.
Finally my Lady had to leave for work and I charged out the door with her. Back to the trap, back over the mangled elephant ears and squash. Now
she's trying to haul me away, but I weigh almost as much as she does so it wasn't easy. I stepped all over her feet in the process of being dragged out. She picked up the trap/cage and set it on the other side of the walk where there were no plants. Now I'm up close and personal. Squirrel, meet Watson the Destroyer. Pray for your filthy diseased soul if you want. My nose was a mere few inches away from the squirrel, but the metal kept me from finishing him off. I barked and whined and chattered and moaned, making all kinds of noises I had no idea I could make. Yup, must be Squirrel Fever. Twitching and shaking and speaking in tongues.
I was made to go back inside. The squirrel was taken away in a car. When Brett returned there was no squirrel. He was gone, and I never had my chance to take him for a ride on the Jaws of Watson.
Hollow victory, but still, a victory none the less.
One down, many to go
