Squirrel, Part 2. Just When You Thought It Was Safe. (Warning: This one’s a bit lengthy. Might want to grab your coffee.)
Ok, so I thought the squirrel saga was over. Ah, but no.  While laying in bed last night I had this horrible feeling that my furry friend was still somewhere in the bowels of the house, directly beneath my bedroom. Needless to say, I did not sleep well. When I awoke in the morning, I heard some items tumble and fall downstairs. Since it’s just me and the dog, and we were upstairs, we both knew who, or what, was below.
As I headed out for my first morning meeting, I left Judge (the wonder dog) downstairs. I figured if I came home and found the remains, I could at least clean up and be rid of the creature. But I must confess, I was concerned the victim might be the canine in light of last night’s forgettable events.
Upon my return, the hound greeted me happily and I was convinced that he had little or no encounter in my absence. Just to be sure, I placed him outside while I headed out for my next appointment.
It wasn’t long until I was back at the house. Entering the original scene of the crime, again, there was no sign of the creature. So, I headed upstairs. Suddenly, as I approached the kitchen, I heard the dreaded noise. As I turned the corner, before my eyes was the dreaded culprit dancing across the kitchen counters and tumbling through the tea cups at the sink.
Trying to think quickly, amidst a heart rate of about 380, I threw open the kitchen door and proceded to let in the dog. This was redemption time. His chance to make everything right. To my delight, he instantly caught sight of the creature and the chase was on. Right into my living room. Now, terrified of what might ensue, I jumped on top of the loveseat in my kitchen area and put my hands over my ears. Judge had pinned the squirrel between the television and my pilates ball and I just knew the next sounds would be a loud chomp, followed by a scream. As I squatted atop the furniture waiting with baited breath, Judge entered the kitchen and calmly walked out the door and into the back yard.
I ease off the couch and slowly made my way into the dining room only to find the squirrel happily enjoying the surroundings. In a flash, he had jumped into the dog’s basket of toys—right next to the stuffed squirrel! “Ok. This is just too surreal.” I muttered. “Now, I have a real squirrel in the basket sitting next to the stuffed one. Somebody, please tell me this is not happening.”
Seeing that the next point of entry could be the hallway that led to the bedrooms, I ran across the living room to shut the door that would close that section off. If the critter got into that section of the house, it would be the black hole for sure. Next, I hurried to prop open the front entry door that led outside. Now I had him. He’d either exit the front door, or scurry out the kitchen. Suddenly, as if the whistle had blown after a hard days work, the nut collector decided it was time to leave. He non-chalantly trotted across the living room floor, over the stoop and out the front door. I just stood there stunned. It was like he’d done this a thousand times and was saying, “See you tomorrow!”
Dumbfounded, I headed out back to find our heroic pet. Who, when spotted, was at the farthest end of the yard, hunkered down by the corner of the fence. In a most slouched position I might add. “You have got to be kidding.” I yelled across the yard. “This was your big moment! You have chased squirrels every day of your life. Today you hit the jackpot. It fell into your lap. And you balked?????”
The quadruped painfully made his way back into the house, tail between his legs. He knew. I didn’t have to say a word. And he wasn’t too proud of himself.
To be honest, I was thrilled I didn’t have a dead creature in the living room to clean up. So inevitably, the dog made the right call. Then it hit me.
“Wait a minute.” I said turning in his direction. “Do you two know each other?” I projected at my dog. “Has that critter been in here before? Is this like some kind of game? Did you just go in there and say, ‘Ok, now Alvin, I’ll make it look like I am about to eat you, then, I will head out back. When I do, that will be your chance to make your big get-a-way. OK? On three. Ready? One, Two,…’ Was that it?” Incredulously, the dog just hung his head. It was as if his master plan had been divulged.
Whatever the case, you have to hand it to him. Judge played his cards right today. And whether or not Alvin the chipmunk, er, squirrel, and my dog are friends, I will never know. But to be honest. I don’t think I really want to. Sometimes, in life, it’s just best to leave well enough alone. We may not really want to know the truth. The whole truth. And nothing but the truth. Aside from any court of law, I think you get my drift.
Best,
S.