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Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/375813-A-Bushy-Tailed-Intruder
Rated: 18+ · Non-fiction · Comedy · #375813
The most horrible rodent of all
It was a cloudy morning in January, many years past – before I ever dreamed of writing on the Internet.

I was on holiday, so it must have been a Monday...

I was alone in my house, lounging in my long thin robe reading my book.

Suddenly I heard a rattle.

Then another.

Then silence.

My house was long- from one end to the other on one level.

I thought - 'oh, it must be the wind rattling in the fireplace.'

It was in the fireplace alright, but it wasn't the wind.....

So I ignored it......submerging myself in my reading once again, oblivious to my surroundings.

After finishing my chapter, I languidly stretched then decided to check my morning's emails, on my computer at the opposite end of the house.

In my most unsuspecting manner I padded through my dwelling, unaware of the horror lurking, jumping, lying in wait for me, in the dark room at the opposite end of my house....

I stepped down into the computer room (an enclosed ex-garage) and I saw a huge wicked creature jumping and snarling on my computer's keyboard.

Screaming in horror, I retreated back from whence I came, slamming the door behind me.

With a pounding heart I picked up the phone to call my beloved.

He barely answered when I shrieked, "Oh Lord, there's a monster in the house!"

"What? Calm down," he instructed in that level-headed tone that I have come to loathe. I love him more than I loathe him by the way.

Then to top it off, he mocked me by asking, "What is it, a mouse?"

I tried to breathe, to think, to reason... It wasn't easy. "It's an animal of some sort - it's huge and it's jumping on my computer! It snarled at me and tried to bite me!"

I added the last fabrication, hoping to elicit at least a sympathetic tone of voice.

No such luck.

He sighed in exasperation at my hysteria, which was turning into anger as he continued to minimize my dilemma in that manly condescending way of his.

Hearing his sighs provoked me, driving me to a daring and desperate act.

"I'll go look at it again and endanger my life to find out for you, how's that?" I offered. (Being of Irish descent, I stand ever ready to play the martyr)

"I think it's a bear or at least a huge rabid racoon," I breathed as my heart pounded in fear at the prospect of facing the wild evil beast I could hear thrashing around in the next room.

"Fine, yeah, look at it and tell me," he said, crisply. I could tell he was doing something else at the same time, probably typing on his computer just to spite me.

He's like that at times, I'm sorry to say.

I set the phone down on the desk with a bang, to get his attention and marched back to face what I knew could be my untimely demise.

Slowly, tentatively I turned the door knob, pushing the door open a crack.

The brazen mammal was still cavorting in the vicinity of my computer on the other side of the room.

We came eye to eye at the same moment. He lunged and I screamed. And I realized I was facing the menacing countenance of an enormous squirrel!

The biggest squirrel ever seen!!! He was huge!!! And gray!!!

The bushy-tailed bastard!!

I retreated again, slamming the door on him as he thrashed around my computer room. I pondered my options as I made my way back to the phone, shakily wiping the sweat from my brow.

"Oh God, now what do I do?" I muttered helplessly as I reluctantly picked up the receiver.

"OH MY GOD! IT's THE BIGGEST SQUIRREL IN THE WORLD" I screamed. "What do I do?"

I had to endure five minutes of hilarious laughter on the other end of the line before he calmly suggested that I go out my front door and unlock the outside door to the computer room, prop the door open and wait for the squirrel to come out. As he held his hand over the receiver, I could hear him explaining my problem to his colleagues, who also erupted in to peals of laughter. After he'd had his little fun at my expense he turned his attention back to me.

"He'll come out right away!" He said confidently, smirking I'm sure. "Call me when it's over, babe," he added, sounding more callous by the second. I couldn't help but hear the smirk in his voice.

I thanked him and hung up, muttering an obscenity.

Now this was January, mind you.

I lived in the Southland at that time, but this was by no means a warm day. It was in the 30's or below. Relying on my confident beloved’s sage advice, I prepared to make my move. Luckily I had an extra key - because I thought I could hear the furry thing playing with my keys as he tore through the other room.

Keeping my wits about me, I put on a pair of sneakers, but I stayed in my robe, thinking eh, who will see me? It's a holiday! It'll all be over in two seconds, right? I mean, “open the side door and he’ll run out” was what I’d been told to expect.

Why would a squirrel want to stay in my cozy house when he could run free all over my yard in January? Think about it, eh?

I slipped out my front door, moving like a cheetah in my stealthy advance on my enemy. As I approached what was now clearly HIS room I could see him through the window, jumping on curtains, frolicking, knocking over this lamp and that, and the coat rack - having the time of his life. King of the Castle.

Master of his domain.

Sucking in a deep breath, I moved in position to open the storm door and unlock the main door, thinking I must move quickly in case he lunges and tries to bite me. With lightning reflexes, I propped open the storm door and unlocked HIS door.

Seeking immediate shelter from what I was sure must be a rabid squirrel who would fly out at me in the blink of an eye, I leapt behind my car in anticipation of his immediate exit.

'I'm being held hostage in my own driveway!' I thought miserably as every car in the neighborhood proceeded to drive by.

Then to add insult to injury, my next door neighbor came over to check on why the door was propped open. There I was crouched over in my robe. Luckily this neighbor had a sense of humor.

(He and his lovely wife have saved me from many self-inflicted catastrophes over the years!)

I refused his kind invitation to wait it out in their house with him and his wife, thinking - hey how long can it be? I’m a grown woman. I can handle this punk squirrel easily.

Forty-five cold, stubborn minutes later my enemy emerged, the conquering hero, strolling out on to my driveway, sneering at me, a shivering frozen shell of my former self.

To top it off, he christened my computer...

Quite frankly, I feel lucky to be alive. The squirrel still taunts me in my dreams.

We both know who was in control that day.....






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