I am not alone
It is a work of art. Because they are so in tune with my squirrel battles, I just might stop by their store.
Well, well, well. Looks like I was wrong about Squirrel all along. No, this does not mean that I have had a change of heart. What I mean is that I have been referring to Squirrel as a male. However, it appears that Squirrel is a FEMALE. And, in case you were wondering, no, this does not make things better. In fact, it makes things much, much worse!
While I was upstairs the other day, I heard Squirrel’s heavy thundering footsteps cross the ceiling. Squirrel stopped right above me. This is when I heard my nightmare multiply. Yes, that is correct - the nightmare multiplied. Squeaks! I heard multiple squeaks coming from the attic. So not only do I have a lead-footed rodent chewing up my house, but she made a nest in my attic and brought more furry evil into the world.
I will have to alter my plans slightly: Squirrel [and her evil offspring] must leave. . . .
I came face-to-face with pure evil the other day. It was grey and fuzzy. That’s right, Squirrel and I finally stopped our little dance and stared each other down - man to annoying rodent.
I was getting ready for work and I heard Squirrel scratching. I bolted into the attic and heard him scamper out onto the roof. However, this time I waited . . . After a few long minutes, there was rustling in the corner of the attic. I turned on the flashlight, and saw Squirrel’s beady evil little red eyes reflecting back at me. I lunged at him with the beating stick. He was quick. Squirrel darted through a hole that I had missed plugging from the outside.
I hate him.