Previously I had let you know how Mr. Grey Squirrel, cheeky and capricious, had persevered until he was successful at setting up residence in our attic loft. Whenever he heard Momma or her family go in to the shed room, he would pop out of the trap door, high on the rafters and eyeball us, chattering non stop, to make sure we knew, he had won.
One day Super Boy came over and went out to the Shed Room to get a soft drink. He came back to the kitchen, asking, “Uh, are you supposed to have a squirrel in your Shed Room?” Sister-Itty-Bitty, her friend, Wonder Boy, Daddy, Momma and I all went trooping out and there he sat on his haunches, front paws folded as if in prayer.
Daddy explained to our bemused family that it was okay, we would drive him out once the spring came. We heard, but never saw Mrs. (Black) Grey Squirrel. That is not till ‘that’ day – the day she had a mission. Apparently Baby Black Grey Squirrel decided to explore the home he lived in. How do we know? They were caught in the act. RIP Daddy had gone out to get drinks for his cooler. Mrs. (Black) Grey Squirrel gave him a “back off look” – walked right over his feet, with something in her mouth. When Daddy bent over and looked closer, he was amazed to see The Sequel – Baby Black Grey Squirrel, (obviously his mama was doing the rescue of a kid gone bad). Then she nonchalantly did a Spider-(wo)man crawl back up the rafters, though the little door to the attic.
Another generation of squirrels to stake claim to the house. It would not hurt so badly if they would be kind enough to contribute to the mortgage payments. But I am thinking that in today’s economy, it would be hard for a squirrel to get a job. It is even tough for Momma and you know how versatile she is:
BEFORE Momma was: Climbing a rickety imaginary corporate ladder trying to break that elusive glass ceiling (not so successful).
NOW Momma is: Climbing a wobbly aluminum ladder to paint the stucco ceilings (successful), even if she falls off and lands in the paint tray, bruising her tail bone, as a consequence. (I tell her, I tell her, DO NOT CLIMB LADDERS. I can not be responsible for her inability to listen).
Maybe some day the city will start paying the squirrels for cleaning all the chestnuts that fall to the sidewalk from my neighbors’ massive tree.
Should that happen, Mr. Grey Squirrel, maybe you can contribute to the household expenses, at least enough to repair the holes in the roof you create. Till then, let me warn you, Mr. Grey Squirrel and Family, your number is up – I know spring is here already and we have not made a move. But just wait till it gets warmer. As the Baseball Umpire says, ‘You’re out of here’. This we promise you.
Part of the Mr. Grey Squirrel Series. See: Mr. Grey Squirrel Mr. Grey Squirrel Moves In
Email: housekeeping@hotdogcoolcats.com
