Man vs. Beast

Although an armistice appears to be in place, I spent much of the Labor Day weekend at war -- with a squirrel.

My building has three floors and I live on the top floor where a large tree hangs over my bedroom window and serves as the perfect walkway for squirrels to get onto my AC unit where they can then mess about on the window sill. Fine. No problem. It is usually amusing in a quaint sort of way however something changed this weekend. It seems that in Courthouse, the pact between man and squirrel has changed. Remember the Seinfeld episode where George ran over a squirrel that should have ran away when he drove near it? ("We had an agreement!") That is the way I assume the world worked: Squirrel violates Man's space, Man confronts Squirrel, Squirrel scurries away, Man remains atop food chain. How naive of me...

Saturday morning, extremely hungover (probably still drunk), I awoke at 7am to a horrible racket outside my bedroom window. At first I thought it was my AC unit grinding to a slow death so I blindly reached around for the remote to shut it off. Realizing that I had never turned it on, I looked over at my window and saw the shadow of a squirrel on the other side of the insulating material surrounding the AC unit. I threw a couple of pillows at the window, but the damn thing wouldn't go away. Angry and tired, I went over to the window where the little bastard had started clawing a small hole in the insulation. I banged on the window and the AC unit but to no avail. It would not go away so I was left with only one recourse; I punched the squirrel. Before you go calling the ASPCA, it was not a Liston-like haymaker or anything like that. I just sorta punched the insulating material of which he was on the other side. That finally startled him enough to go away -- for a little while. Later that morning I went back into my room and found three long gashes in the insulation. That fucking squirrel had come back and continued his damage. Now fuming, I ultimately resigned myslef to going back to my business as I could not find the little fucker after I ran outside in search of it. All was quiet until the next day.

Sunday morning I woke up to the same sound and lo and behold that fucking squirrel was back trying to put another hole in the insulation. This time I Was Pissed. I went over to the window and looked out one of the holes. That son of a bitch eyeballed me and sat there staring me down. Knowing that a stiff jab was not going to cut it this time around I had to elevate the situation. I went into my closet, grabbed a wire hanger, and jabbed the little fucker through one of the openings (relax, I used the rounded end). Looking out to see what damage, if any, I had done it was still sitting there. Eyeballing me. Not yet willing to crawl out onto my window ledge, I made another tactical retreat.

To date, said squirrel has not returned but I doubt this is the end of it. My family, having found no end to the hilarity of the situation, has been providing all manner of unsolicited advice. My grandfather, a man who has spent a lifetime defending his home gardens from vermin, offered some sage words of wisdom. So now I will be spending my Saturday covering the holes with duct tape and steel wool because, "squirrels can't chew through steel wool." Wonderful.

Of late, I really hate nature.