Shoot ‘Em Dead

Say what?


Oh yeah.  They’ve invaded and it’s time to go to war.  There are limitations to tolerance and even this animal-loving family has them.

When my husband and I first moved in to our lovely home, we were enchanted by our woodsy backyard, and all the wildlife that seemed to congregate there.  It was serene and we all lived together harmoniously.  We put out birdfeeders and exclaimed over the cuteness of the little chipmunks that sat underneath them, feeding off of the scraps dropped by the multitude of songbirds that visited our yard.  We laughed at the cunning squirrels who would do anything to get at the birdseed, hanging upside down on the feeders and opening the tops of them to get their little claws in there.  We marveled at the deer who found serenity in our woods.  And we could barely contain our excitement over the family of groundhogs who moved in.

Until the day that they all took over. The groundhogs had more babies and started eating every beautiful shrub, flower, herb and vegetable plant in sight.  The deer ate every piece of evergreen on our property; our hedges, our holly, our “border” plants.

But it’s the squirrels with whom we have the beef.  It’s the squirrels who started getting on our nerves when we found them at all of our feeders, robbing them all.

….and then we started seeing them running along the length of our gutters.  A bit disconcerting when you get out of your steamy shower and find yourself eye-to-eye with a fat, smiling gray squirrel right outside the window.  My husband started getting concerned that since they’d already worn out their welcome as outdoor guests and felt entitled to, they might be getting designs on trying to find a way to become indoor ones.  He got some have-a-heart traps.  And only caught some cute wild bunnies…

Then the hole appeared.  Not a big one, just big enough for a squirrel to squirm through.  In the eave of our house, outdoors.  And they moved in; their family, their boxes and suitcases full of acorns.  And they were the lousiest unwanted tenants ever.

The noise level was ridiculous.  There was all sorts of banging and crashing during the day. And the traffic coming in and out of that hole, well, it must have been drug running or something.

We tried squirrel traps in the attic.  But they are too clever.  They send their lower caste employees, the mice, over to test everything out for them. To ensure safety.  So, we caught many a mouse and were plagued with gray squirrels.

And then Clint Eastwood showed up.  In the form of my tough husband.  Enough is enough and he was taking back his house, his yard, his property, his world.  And he borrowed his father’s 22 rifle and that was that.

And we’ve lived in relative peace and quiet as most squirrels in these parts have heard the stories of their relatives blown to bits by the baddest gunslinger in the wild east.

But recently………we’ve had a visitor…….not from these parts……and the 22 has been taken out of its dusty case…


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