I had to leave the house early this morning for an appointment. The sun was shining. It was a beautiful fall-like day. I was happy.
Barely a half-mile down the road, I had to make an instantaneous driving decision.
Run over a bicyclist. Run over a squirrel. Have a head-on collision with a car.
I chose Door Number Two.
I used to love squirrels. Their fluffy little tails! Their pretty white bellies! DT would go every week or so to our local wild bird food shop and buy peanuts for the squirrels.
This was when we had a beagle - the devoted Snickers.
If you have a beagle, you do not need to worry about squirrels invading your attic. Deer eating your tomatoes. Moles. Strangers. Opossums. Stellar Jays. Leftovers. Raccoons. Being alone for more than 30 seconds at a time. Beagles take care of a lot.
But we no longer have a beagle, so we now have to deal with squirrels trying to nest in our attic, basement and garage. I have grown to really-really dislike the nasty little critters, and (of course) we no longer offer them food. Still, when I actually ran-over a squirrel today, I was sad.
The squirrel had obviously raced across the road to steal one of the walnuts from our neighbors orchard. The rodent had a fat green walnut in his paws. Is it my fault he decided to race back across the road just as I approached at 40 miles per hour on a 7% downgrade? No!
Besides, that squirrel was stealing. Hello! One of the Ten Commandments! Thou Shall Nut Steal... or something like that.
That is all I have to say tonight.
Until my next update, I remain, your squirrel-massacring correspondent.