oratoryfluff's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The Squirrel It sucks to be the one with a strong stomach in a family, because that means you get stuck with all the really nasty jobs. Like this morning for example... I head out to run an errand around 9 am.. the sky is overcast and it's breezy..the sort of weather I enjoy. I stop to admire the horses across the street, and then glance for some reason to our front stoop as I'm walking to my car. I notice a squirrel laying spread eagle on the porch. I did a doubletake and walked closer... The poor little thing must have been trying to make it to our front door to seek help when it shuffled off it's mortal coil. Yep..a dead squirrel on the porch.. what I love to see first thing in the morning. As I ran my errand, I pondered WHAT to do with this very large dead squirrel. I called Doug and told him I'd need his help to remove a dead squirrel. He sleepily answered the phone and said "What do you want me to do about it?!" Great..I'm on my own.. so I stop and buy latex gloves on the way home and then set about my work with not one, but two plastic bags. So At this point I have 3 layers of protective plastic between and me and Mr Fuzzy Stiff. Once he was neatly tied up in 2 plastic bags I then pondered what to do with it... It sure wasn't going to wait in our trash cans until Friday's pick up. Oh no... Of course it's labor day, so the dump is closed.. so I put it in my trunk and proceed to drive around my side of town trying to figure out how to dispose of the body. I wasn't going to bury the damn thing... I even drove by animal control, but they were closed as well. The thought crossed my mind that had I been angry enough at anyone, I could have left it on that person's front porch..but alas.. there's no one that I dislike that much. So I finally pull into a shopping center and stuff it into a trashcan as nonchalantly as I can, halfway fearing that some grocery store manger was going to come out yelling "we don't want your dead squirrel!!" But no one noticed, and I hastily made my retreat, feeling somewhat guilty. Upon returning home, (and scrubbing myself with soap) my two young sons were theorizing about how the poor little critter died. The best one came from my almost 5 year old: "Maybe he was hanging from our porch beams like a bat, and he fell on his head" Maybe so... I just hope that the adventurous bat-imitating squirrels pick somebody else's porch next time. 6:13 p.m. - 2004-09-06 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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