Friday, June 5, 2015

Hell hath no fury...

I like the squirrel. Goodlooking fur, fluffy tail and the stricken little clasped paw. And the squirrel annoys me, of course. Hogs the birdseed and digs in the planters.

"The" squirrel - I don't actually know how many there are. A few weeks ago one squirrel - which was certifiable, it must be admitted, it showed no fear at all - was either 1. Drowned in the East River or 2. Released in a Bronx Park, depending on which version of the story you believe.

Our landlord trapped him, after s/he (the squirrel) apparently: 1. Chewed a hole in the roof  2. Chewed a hole through a metal plate inserted to deter it from chewing holes in the roof 3. Was ousted from the ceiling where it had taken up residence by an exterminator who sprayed something "non toxic" into the hole 3. Was thumped on the head late at night after it descended to street level by a passing drunk guy, in front of a small audience  4. Escaped again to the roof, despite what must have been a significant concussion.

Where s/he was caught the next day in a humane trap.

Maybe s/he fired the shot that reverberated on the street at 1.20am last night.  I mean s/he was angry enough, surely? Payback.

It was a robbery, close to home. No one was hurt, and the police arrived very, very fast and stayed till 4am.

So if you see a squirrel in a grey hoodie, s/he could be the one. S/he remains at large. Free. Drowned and risen.

Bent on revenge.


                         Book a Wild Foods Walk

                      (no squirrels will be harmed)
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