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If you were to explore my Twitter history (which I do recommend, because it does make a thrilling read), you will find a series of tweets about a nefarious squirrel. Having allowed sufficient passage of time, I am now ready to share my ordeal with the world. Get ready, strap in, buckle up, bear down.
About two weeks ago we saw a large mouse in the apartment. Not a rat, but not your tiny variety mouse with whom we are accustomed. Definitely thought we had it trapped behind the television. Obviously, we definitely did not.
Time passed, and then a few days later I awoke to frantic scrambling sounds. Violent, loud, rodent scrambling sounds. I froze, tried to ascertain their exact location. I discovered that the noise seemed to be coming from across my room near one of my four windows. Blergh. So I’m gazing dismally at the drying cleaning that I have heaped on the windowsill as insulation AND… all of the sudden I see the silhouette of one LARGE rodent. I have a corner room that faces south and east, so in the morning on a clear day the sunlight is blinding and on this morning Apollo’s rays turned their attention to putting the silhouette of a rat-like head and shoulders into high-definition on my curtains. I almost died. Right there.
The root of the problem was that it was impossible to tell if the beast was in my room nestling in the insulation behind my curtain or outside. Based on the level of racket, I feared the worst. I also had a sudden bout of heart failure where I pondered whether the large mouse from the other night might be a rat, now living it up in my bedroom. I might have started to shake. Maybe.
So I did what any normal person would do. I ran to the bathroom, grabbed the broom and came back armed to beat the shit out of that rat. So I poke about with the broom… nothing. And then… another dramatic pause… mad scrambling at the window… the window that I forgot is cracked open! Noooooo!
I saw its shiny black coat and it’s creepy pink paws… but just a flash as I slammed the window and it ran off. A few moments later the villain returned, revealing its true nature: one of those creepy black squirrels that we don’t have in the fair Mid-West from which I hail. I first encountered such creatures in Stuy Town. They’re mean, they’re crafty and just like the squirrel in Jenna’s dressing room on 30 Rock “it’s not afraid of people!”
And then we had a photo shoot that lasted days as it continued trying to break into my room. It’s gone now, but does fear ever really disappear? Does it?
Note his nice bushy tail. I mean, I resent the squirrel but that is one fine bottle brush specimen. Well groomed, sir, well done.
Haven’t seen my furry foe lately, but my motto has been changed (from whatever it was) to Constant Vigilance (imagine it in Latin).