This week, a public service announcement confirmed what I've been saying for years: SQUIRRELS ARE EVIL.
Don't believe me? Ask the National Park Service. They're the ones who issued a warning on "Squirrel Safety" this week. In it, they confirm that squirrel bites are one of the most common injuries at our nation's National Parks.
"Awww, but they're so cute," you say. Cute monsters, maybe. Raccoons are cute, too, but they'd eat your face clean off if given the chance. I'm telling you, squirrels are tiny little cute and fluffy demons THAT HAVE PLAGUED OUR FRAGILE EARTH FOR FAR TOO LONG. But what do I know? I'm merely the landlord of a massive squirrel-led agricultural production and processing facility.
In other words, I have a walnut tree in my back yard.
Technically, it's not even MY tree. The trunk of said tree actually sits just over my neighbor's property line, But I'd guesstimate 80% of its branches and walnuts hover over MY yard. Every year, our tree is diligently farmed by a pack of hard-working, cute-as-a-button, exceptionally mean squirrels who hate me to no end.
I've never been a big fan of the walnut tree. Every year, I've had to listen as walnuts fall off the tree and onto my roof, where they rollllllll loudly all the way down to the ground. My house is a giant pachinko machine. Last year, I reached my limit and finally paid a guy to cut back the branches that overhung my roof. At last, some peace and quiet
Or so I thought.
Last week, I was sitting in my living room when I heard the all-too-familiar thud/rolllllll/splat. What gives? Branches don't re-grow THAT fast, do they? Was this a rogue sky walnut falling from heaven? A few minutes later, I heard it AGAIN and had to step outside to see what was going on. I should've known.
As I stood there, one of my squirrely friends hustled up the tree and shook loose a walnut to the ground. Since it was less than ripe, it stayed mostly intact. That's when I watched the squirrel chomp down on the walnut, run it all the way around to the other side of the house, climb my OTHER tree, jump onto my roof, and with great purpose drop it so it would roll down the roof and onto the concrete below, where it finally broke open. Don't tell me squirrels aren't smart. It turns out my house isn't a giant pachinko machine -- it's a giant nutcracker.
If the roof method doesn't work, then it's off to the rendering plant, aka my back steps. For half the year, my steps are routinely covered in the detritus ofshattered walnut husks, as the squirrels take them up there and bang them against the rails until they can get to the treasure within. If I dare attempt to leave for work in the midst of the process, the squirrels will scamper off to the tree and climb to eye level, where they'll hang there issuing angry little "thpf! thk!" complaints until I'm safely away.
A few years ago, I interrupted a squirrel in mid-nutcrack, and he scampered up the tree, climbed onto the branch directly above me, and... peed on my head. Squirrels are the worst.
Today, though, was a new level of strange. I opened my back door, and lo, what greeted me on my back steps? An entirely whole, and entirely moldy, Big Mac. Two all-beef patties, special sauce, lettuce, cheese, pickles, onions on a moldy-gross bun. And yes, I nearly slipped on it and almost took a full header down the steps.
I wondered what had left such a disgusting treasure. Perhaps one of the feral cats I feed like a chump? Maybe one of those face-eating raccoons? No, a quick check of the security cameras proved it was brought to my door by two squirrels working in tandem with great intent. Perhaps it was their offering as long-overdue rent. My guess is they were HOPING I'd slip on it and take a header. Then 81 of those murderous little burger-eating monsters would probably work in tandem to drag my body off to whereever they keep all those walnuts.
Squirrels might be cute, but at what cost? THE CARTOONS LIE, PEOPLE. I don't remember Chip or Dale ever peeing on anyone's head. Alvin, Simon, and Theodore never plotted any burger-related murders. WHEN WILL THE MADNESS END? My guess is first frost.
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