Squirrel War's ... Let the battle begin

Today I received a grand total of two e-mails. That is an unusual day for me. Twenty is more like it. I didn't even get any interesting spam. Not only that but the nifty cool google thingy that keeps track of my "hits" on this blog said that my total today was zero. ZERO. I am feeling a little neglected. A little lonely. Slightly unappreciated.

Ok, I'm over it. (I have a remarkable propensity for "speed healing." It's a gift.)

And here's absolute proof positive that the good people down at the Google HQ are asleep at the wheel. One of my two (sniff) e-mails today was about yesterday's blog. How can that be, you ask? If nobody read the e-stinken blog then how could anybody e-mail me about it? Correct. Google Schmoogle. That's all I have to say about that.

But here is the thing. The e-mail about my blog? It was complaining about my vain attempt to smash a squirrel. GIMMEABREAKPEOPLE. Squirrels are everywhere in my neighborhood. They easily out number people. One of my neighbor's used to blow them out of trees with a .22 caliber rifle. This is not a legal thing to do. I happen to have a .22 caliber rifle. (It has a nifty cross-hair scope but that's an entirely different blog.) Do you know why .22 caliber rifles are so loud when you shoot them? Because they fire a very high velocity projectile (aka: bullet.) It goes so fast that it exceeds the speed of sound. Thus the "BANG!" Do you know how far a .22 caliber bullet will travel if you shoot at, oh, say a tree branch and miss the squirrel? I don't either but I'll bet it's a honken long way.

Ok, I've killed a few squirrels in my day but always with my Goodyears and never with my rifle. And yes, it was usually a total accident. Honest. Really. I swear. I did kill a few rats with my rifle but I was only about 10 years old then and was probably aiming at something else. Like, ohhhh ... a Cardinal fan. (Slow down, would ya? It's a joke.)

But lately squirrels have been declaring war on me. Yes, that's right. Squirrels have been attacking my homestead. Specifically they have been prying their little bodies under my ugly green garage door. Once through there they hot foot it to a big fifty-gallon rubber maid trash can that is filled with Bailey the Killer Beagle's dog chow. This can is two feet from the door to my inner sanctum! They are almost in my home!!!! Next they'll be using the toaster or making themselves grilled cheese sandwiches! These vicious vermin have fangs the size of a samurai sword. They have eaten through the top of the rubber maid container where they have been holding regular parties for their families and friends. At MY expense. This has been going on for sometime.

You ever open a big old tub expecting to find dog food only to find squirrels instead? I was offended. I was hurt. These are the same squirrels that I often throw stale bread out onto the lawn in the winter for. Last month I actually dumped about 3/4ths of a crock pot full of meat balls ... yummy meat balls ... into the curb of our street because they were getting slightly rank for human consumption which I figure is just about right for squirrel consumption. And all of a sudden they think this is an invitation to party at my place?

I think not.

So I struck back. Sure I missed the one on the road yesterday. I'll get my chance again. I'll stamp "maximum psi 40 lb" on his little forehead. And for his buddies that make it under my garage door again I have left a little surprise. Steel. Pure galvanized steel. I can hardly wait ...


Not even Rocky J. Squirrel could get into this puppy. I figure the current score is SQUIRREL'S 1/HUMAN'S 1.

The battle has just begun. They have now eaten through my (garbage company provided) garbage can. I can't replace that one with steel. But I can leave them a little ... "treat" ... in the can for their next visit. I may not be able to stop them from getting IN the can ... but maybe I can stop them from getting OUT.

Stay tuned.