Since squirrels seem to be all the rage lately, the timing on this was perfect…
Yesterday 5:30 I miss a call from my lawyer’s office, who’s one of my closest friends. I call back right away and his secretary answers, which was odd so I tease her about the time. “Oh Paul… thank God…hold on”. Now I’m wondering what’s wrong. My buddy picks up. “Geoff, what’re you doing there at 5:30 on a Friday?”. “Well, Josh, Donna, Nancy and I have a squirrel trapped in the file room, do you know anything about catching them?” “Ummmm… not really (here I’m thinking about the plethora of squirrel related posts here)… ahhhh… do you want me to shoot it?” “Noooo… the women would go crazy…do you have anything we can use to catch it?” “Ummmm…. no I don’t own any squirrel trappage equipment” Long pause… “Do you want me to come over?” “Ahhhh…yeah… would you mind?”
When I get there, the little beast is trapped under a desk with two guys terrorizing it with brooms, trash cans, boxes and a blanket. I never knew squirrels could snarl, but this thing was P*SSEDDDDDDDDDDDD off. Every few minutes it would dash across the room sending everyone scattering and always showing true Darwinism in it’s perfectly inaccessable choice of hiding spots. At one point it’s tail was visible through a gap in the file cabinets. I made a lasso out of my chalk line… carefully threaded it between the cabinets… slowlyyyyyyyyyy pulled it tight… Yanked and the thing starts snarling and thrashing like a furry barracuda. Pulls the slippery chalk line right off… Tried it twice with the same results. Finally a little more of it’s tail was protruding. I used my best Delta Force hand gestures to motion for the blanket. Wrapped it around my hand… slowlyyyyyy reached for the tail and clamped down on it.
This thing held onto the file cabinet so hard I thought I was gonna come away with just the bottom half of Mr. Squirrelie but with a lot of snarling and squeeling he came loose and I carried him thrashing through the office, offering Donna and Nancy a last chance to kiss him goodbye. Oddly, they were…unamused.
No doubt come Monday the aroma of squirrel excrement will be wafting through the file room as a final insult… bet he’s gonna be telling some great stories back at the nest.
Replies
Yea - growing up I had some altercations with a few as we tried to expel them from our attic. They can be rather nasty little creatures. Ever since then I've never thought of them as 'cute'. More like tree rats.
Edited 9/26/2009 8:47 am ET by Matt
thats exactly what they are, Rats with bushy tails!
I have trapped 2 or 3 in the attic in a wire cage. You're right, they can get very nasty with their snarling. They don't look so cute like that.
"Put your creed in your deed." Emerson
"When asked if you can do something, tell'em "Why certainly I can", then get busy and find a way to do it." T. Roosevelt
All the squirrel talk reminded me of this story I posted 5 years ago.
link didn't work, see massage 7
Message is truncated by the way
TFB (Bill)
Edited 9/26/2009 10:55 am by ToolFreakBlue
I dunno why, but I love squirrel tales. (There's a classic NPR story of a couple of cops who almost burned down someone's house trying to catch one.) Yours, BTW, shows up as "thread does not exist." Too bad -- I would've loved to check it out. Maybe cut & paste your copy?Mike HennessyPittsburgh, PAEverything fits, until you put glue on it.
This is a forward of a forward email story that will bust your gut.Bill*************************A good friend of mine and ole clown buddy Garland 'Biscuits' S is a
fireman here in Richardson. He has always been an imaginative writer and I hope you all get the laugh out of this that I did... in fact I have a
headache now...Frank P
Firefighter/Paramedic
Station Number 2
*************************Hidy Ho Neighbors,PICTURE THIS.....I never dreamed slowly cruising on my motorcycle through a residential
neighborhood could be so incredibly dangerous!Little did I suspect I was on Brice Street - a very nice neighborhood with perfect lawns and slow traffic. As I passed an oncoming car, a brown furry missile shot out from under it and tumbled to a stop immediately in front of me. It was a squirrel, and must have been trying to run across the road when it encountered the car.I really was not going very fast, but there was no time to brake or avoid it - it was that close. I hate to run over animals, and I really hate it on a motorcycle, but a squirrel should pose no danger to me. I barely had time to brace for the impact. Animal lovers, never fear. Squirrels, I discovered, can take care of themselves! Inches before impact, the squirrel flipped to his feet. He was standing on his hind legs and facing my oncoming Valkyrie with steadfast resolve in his little beady eyes. His mouth opened, and at the last possible second, he screamed and leapt! I am pretty sure the scream was squirrel for, "Bonzai!" or maybe, "Die you gravy-sucking, heathen scum!"The leap was nothing short of spectacular as he shot straight up, flew
over my windshield, and impacted me squarely in the chest. Instantly, he set upon me. If I did not know better, I would have sworn he brought 20 of his little buddies along for the attack. Snarling, hissing, and tearing at my clothes, he was a frenzy of activity.As I was dressed only in a light t-shirt, summer riding gloves, and jeans this was a bit of a cause for concern. This furry little tornado was doing some damage!Picture a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a t-shirt, and leather gloves, puttering at maybe 25 mph down a quiet residential street, and in the fight of his life with a squirrel. And losing...I grabbed for him with my left hand. After a few misses, I finally managed to snag his tail. With all my strength, I flung the evil rodent off to the left of the bike, almost running into the right curb as I recoiled from the throw. That should have done it. The matter should have ended right there.It really should have. The squirrel could have sailed into one of the
pristinely kept yards and gone on about his business, and I could have
headed home. No one would have been the wiser.But this was no ordinary squirrel. This was not even an ordinary
pizzed-off squirrel. This was an EVIL MUTANT ATTACK SQUIRREL OF DEATH !Somehow he caught my gloved finger with one of his little hands and, with the force of the throw, swung around and with a resounding thump and an amazing impact, he landed squarely on my back and resumed his rather anti-social and extremely distracting activities. He also managed to take my left glove with him! The situation was not improved. Not improved at all. His attacks were continuing, and now I could not reach him.I was startled to say the least. The combination of the force of the
throw, only having one hand (the throttle hand) on the handlebars, and my jerking back unfortunately put a healthy twist through my right hand and into the throttle. A healthy twist on the throttle of a Valkyrie can only have one result. Torque. This is what the Valkyrie is made for, and she is very, very good at it. The engine roared and the front wheel left the pavement. The squirrel screamed in anger. The Valkyrie screamed in ecstasy. I screamed in... well . I just plain screamed.Now picture a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a slightly squirrel-torn-t-shirt, wearing only one leather glove, and roaring at maybe 50 mph and rapidly accelerating down a quiet residential street on one wheel and with a demonic squirrel on his back. The man and the squirrel are both screaming bloody murder. With the sudden acceleration I was forced to put my other hand back on the handlebars and try to get control of the bike. This was leaving the mutant squirrel to his own devices, but I really did not want to crash into somebody's tree, house, or parked car. Also, I had not yet figured out how to release the throttle my brain was just simply overloaded.I did manage to mash the back brake, but it had little effect against the massive power of the big cruiser. About this time the squirrel decided that I was not paying sufficient attention to this very serious battle (maybe he is an evil mutant attack squirrel of death), and he came around my neck and got INSIDE my full-face helmet with me. As the faceplate closed partway, he began hissing in my face. I am quite sure my screaming changed intensity.It had little effect on the squirrel, however.The RPMs on The Dragon maxed out (since I was not bothering with shifting at the moment) so her front end started to drop. Now picture a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a very raggedly-torn t-shirt, wearing only one leather glove, roaring at probably 80 mph, still on one wheel, with a large puffy squirrel's tail sticking out of the mostly closed full-face helmet.By now the screams are probably getting a little hoarse. Finally I got the upper hand ... I managed to grab his tail again, pulled him out of my helmet, and slung him to the left as hard as I could.This time it worked ... sort-of. Spectacularly sort-of ... so to speak. Picture a new scene. You are a cop. You and your partner have pulled off on a quiet residential street and parked with your windows down to do some paperwork. Suddenly a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a torn t-shirt flapping in the breeze, and wearing only one leather glove, moving at probably 80 mph on one wheel, and screaming bloody murder roars by and with all his strength throws a live squirrel grenade directly into your police car.I heard screams. They weren't mine... I managed to get the big motorcycle under control and dropped the front wheel to the ground. I then used maximum braking and skidded to a stop in a cloud of tire smoke at the stop sign of a busy cross street. I would have returned to fess up (and to get my glove back). I really would have. Really. Except for two things. First, the cops did not seem interested or the slightest bit concerned about me at the moment. When I looked back, the doors on both sides of the patrol car were flung wide open. The cop from the passenger side was on his back, doing a crab walk into somebody's front yard, quickly moving away from the car. The cop who had been in the driver's seat was standing in the street and was aiming a riot shotgun at his own police car.So the cops were not interested in me. They often insist to "let the
professionals handle it" anyway. That was one thing. The other? Well, I could clearly see shredded and flying pieces of foam and upholstery from the back seat. But I could also swear I saw the squirrel in the back window, shaking his little fist at me, shooting me the finger ... That is one dangerous squirrel. And now he has a patrol car. A somewhat shredded patrol car ... but it was all his.I took a deep breath, turned on my turn-signal, made a gentle right turn off of Brice Street, and sedately left the neighborhood. I decided it was best to just buy myself a new pair of gloves. And some Band-Aids.Thanks,Garland S
Firehouse 3
=======================TFB (Bill)
Now *that's* a classic. Had be cryin' I laughed so hard! Thx.Mike HennessyPittsburgh, PAEverything fits, until you put glue on it.
I haven't had a good laugh like that in a while. Got to show it to a biker friend.As soon as I get my sling shot out the cats wake up and come for the fun.
Folks, you really need to let a true pro handle such calls. Someone born and bred for the task, with a natural talent for tracking down and eliminating pests. Oddly enough, you likely already know such a perfect predator.
I have one in my garage, right now. It's known as "Critter Abatement Technology." This CAT can get into the tiniest of spaces, going for the kill with a fury and passion that has to be seen to be fully appreciated.
Naturally, in this modern world, there is a competitor in this market. This is known as the "FEline Replacement Rodent Eliminating Technology," or FERRET.
When the task is completed, I suggest you dispose of the bodies using methods detailed in the book "Kill It and Grill It," by Ted Nugent.
Edited 9/27/2009 11:44 am ET by renosteinke
"...offering Donna and Nancy a last chance to kiss him goodbye. Oddly, they were...unamused."
I've noticed that women tend to NOT have much of a sense of humor in that kind of situations.
Gawd, Paul, I just laughed so hard at both stories I cried.
I needed that... thanks!
my squirrel story: i was skiing in vermont going down a narrow path between two trails, as i just got to the second trail a squirrel crossed the path and i had nowhere to go so he or she ended up under my skis and was cut in two. this happened just under the ski lift and i was accused of being a butcher.
Ran in front of you? Must have been an Acorn Organizer.
http://forums.taunton.com/tp-breaktime/messages?msg=46996.5
Dinosaur
How now, Mighty Sauron, that thou art not brought
low by this? For thine evil pales before that which
foolish men call Justice....
Gee let's see 5:30 in the PM. Why not a live trap baited with stuff they really like peanut butter close to peanuts crazy glued onto the paddle. You can return the next morning after a leisurely dinner adn teach the little fellow to swim in the cage. If he doesn't catch on so fast he at least will be able to do teh Dead Man's Float.
Garbage can full of water makes a fine swimming pool, especially if you have a good lid because I hear they learn faster in the dark.
They went from cute to nasty vermin the day I watched my grandpa shoot one off the walnut tree in the yard. Very wounded and almost dead, it bit the shovel as he tried to scoop it up.