Recently I had a close encounter of the squirrel kind. I came home on a Monday afternoon and walked out into my back yard to survey my kingdom. Just as I got to the garage patio, I noticed a squirrel laying in the grass. (For those of you non-squirrel people, this is not normal behavior). On closer inspection (5 feet away) I saw that the back 1/2 of his body was kind of smashed and his tail looked like he'd been caught out in the rain. And there were flys crawling around on him. He looked good and dead.
As a single parent, I have conducted more than a few "animal funerals". So after a couple of ladylike "ewe's", I told myself I was a grownup and could take care of this situation without calling an uncle or cousin. I went in the house and got a paper bag (for burial - didn't want to use a plastic bag, or it would take 100 years for the squirrel to biodegrade). Then I went into the garage to get a shovel (to pick up the body from a safe distance). As I came out of the garage, the squirrel picked up his head and looked right at me. After hastily propping the shovel against the garage, I speed-walked back into the house and locked the door behind me (in case the squirrel proved to have super powers and followed me and tried to open the door).
Then I called an uncle. He said to leave it alone and it would be dead by morning. My aunt said to hit the squirrel with the shovel. She's a little bloodthirsty, but did not volunteer to come over and do the deed herself.
The next morning the squirrel had moved a little, but was still in the same place. The following afternoon, Wednesday, I went out and banged the shovel on the cement to see if I could get a rise out of the squirrel. No activity and he was starting to smell. So shovel in hand, I scooped up the dead animal, gently placed it in the paper sack and rolled the top down, then, holding my breath, speed-walked to the trash can and deposited the sack inside.
Luckily, my trash goes out on Wednesday night. I'm sure the trash guys swooned when they took off the lid of the trash can and got a whiff of Rocky. I imagine they had a nice, tasteful memorial for him out at the landfill.
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Candy, I suddenly see you have written twice since your first blog.
ReplyDeleteA goldfinch spent most of a quite day dying on my porch last Sunday. Every now and then I would look in on it and say a few word, but he was too ill to reply. The ground under the hedge along the alley is my bird cemetery.
How are you?
I had a busy summer and now I am preparing for a busy fall.
You write well.
ReplyDeleteDealing with the undead, even in squirrels, is a bit unnerving. You must have missed the day(s) Dad and I flushed gophers out in the backyard. It involved "death by pitchfork" with me as the executioner. (I liked the Rocky the squirrel reference at the end.) Good to see you writing.
ReplyDeleteThis is a test. (Do I track, or do I not?)
ReplyDeleteHi Aunt Candy! I saw your comment over at Dad's... Your story made me laugh (and it's a little creepy). I never knew that dead-squirrel-bravery is a family trait. Our condo that we just moved out of had a dead+decaying squirrel in the attic when we moved into it. Even with a husband around, I was the only one who would go fish it out of the insulation with a shovel and into a bag. At least it didn't look at me though! I drew the line at the next one in the crawl space, so he hired someone. Eww! Take care :).
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