Visions of Mounted Squirrel Heads...

You'll be happy to know I won't be blogging about pig heads today. Honestly, there are some blogs that I really can't explain. It's just what comes out when I type. I'm sure if I had a professional analyse my thoughts, I'd either be thrown in the loony bin or be determined criminally insane. Really, though, I'd like to think everyone has a peculiar way of thinking; I just happen to have a blog.

While I might not blog about pigs heads, I wouldn't mind blogging about squirrel heads. You see, I'm declaring war on Nutley v. 2.0. While I wasn't happy about him eating my tomatoes, I'd resolved myself to the fact that there wasn't much I could do about it in the immediate future except shoo him away if I saw him.

Last night, however, I went out to water my plants. I had recently planted a very small but cute rose in my garden that has been doing well. It has one tiny rose blooming on it and the second, and only other bud, was just opening.

Well, that is to say it was opening. Last night, I discovered that Nutley 2.0 had not only picked my rose but he'd strewn the petals over my garden. I can only blame him as I saw him boldly and brassily sitting in the exactly spot where I found the evidence just the night before as day became twilight and Nutley loomed large in the shadows of the setting sun. I'd like to think there was some more serene and pretty purpose in his scattering of rose petals but since they were chewed and regurgitated alongside the dregs of the rosebud, I don't think it's likely he was the groom in a squirrel wedding or anything like that.

I liked that rose. I was pleased because I'd rescued it from my mother's yard where it hadn't taken too well to the shade and soil where we'd originally planted it. Since I replanted it, it thrived.

I'm hoping it continues to thrive but short of a BB gun, I'm not sure how to solve the squirrel problem. A BB Gun would help and, I confess, I'm tempted. Perhaps a BB could even go astray as the neighbours' yappy dog came to torment me.

No, I'm not that mean. Besides, my mother was almost shot with a 'stray' 'BB' gun last year while she was minding her own business and weeding her garden. She was kneeling down and felt something zip by her ear. It hit the barn behind her. It scared her rather badly, as you can imagine. Shaken and scared, she told my dad who wisely called the police because it seemed that the neighbours were shooting in their yard across the street and a bullet had managed to find it's way across the road. Considering there's a good distance between my parents' house and the neighbours, it seemed a little unlikely that a little BB would have such a trajectory. The sherriff's department came and questioned the neighbours who said they had accidentally been shooting at squirrels and misfired. I don't buy that for a second, especially considering they're not the friendliest of people. The woman who lives there proceeds to wake me up whenever I'm staying overnight by screaming like a banshee at her dog or kid; I can't quite tell which one- the screaming generally sounds the same whether she's telling the dog to shut up or the kid to stop acting like a brat.

Still, whether it was a BB or a stronger bullet, I think my mother is a little more cautious. She didn't take my suggestion to wear a bulletproof vest and helmet seriously. However, I told her to stay low if she hears gunshots from across the way. I can just see her snaking on the ground, army style, to get from her flower garden to the house. Given that her miniature Yorkie is usually with her in the garden, he'd probably hamper her progress in staying low by licking her face and stifling her. So, all in all, it wouldn't be very successful or subtle. It might prevent her from getting shot by stray pellets, however.

Anyway, because of this, I'd feel bad for getting a BB gun and aiming at the squirrel. I have a lot of neighbours around. I might accidentally shoot one. Given my recent DMV Issues, I really don't need a assault with a non-deadly weapon on my record. Though, I'm happy to report, as of this morning, I'm legal to drive in the state of Indiana. Now, given that I live in Ohio, I better get things cleared up there. I see a trip to the portal to Hell in my near future. Is it bad that I'm actually happy about this?

Back to Nutley 2.0. I'm not sure what to do to him. He was shouting at me last night as I watered my yard. If you've never heard a squirrel shouting, it's a stream of hissing chattering. I recognize the sound because Nutley at USC used to talk to me sometimes. It sounds angry. I think he was annoyed that I was watering his buffet. Personally, I'd like to take Mr. Nutley 2.0 and show him who's boss but since I can neither scamper up a tree at the speed of light nor get low enough to the ground to nibble at a tomato from below, I think he has the edge. Also, he's quite big for a squirrel and can jump on me from above. Yes, I'm being held at bay by a 10 inch tall rodent. He's big for his size though. Really!

I'll have to find a way to repel him next year; I'm sure I can find solutions but given that fall is coming and Nutley 2.0 will go into hibernation, I can deal with him for now. Though I do wish he'd stop hiding his nuts under my newly transplanted plants.

And yes, I'm aware, that could be a euphemism. It is, however, meant to be read literally. I'm talking about hickory nuts and acorns. Get your mind out of the gutter.

If anyone has a squirrel deterrent, I'd gladly hear about it. I wish to defeat Nutley 2.0. I just don't know how. I will not concede defeat, however. I WILL NOT! Nutley 2.0 WILL be conquered, oh yes, he will.

On a far more serious note, I would be amiss if I didn't mention the death of Patrick Swayze. Being the daughter of a man who thinks Dirty Dancing is the best move ever and also adores Black Dog and Roadhouse, it doesn't seem right to not admit that it's a sad day. As a teen, there were many late night sleepovers with friends in which we'd stay up watching swaying to Dirty Dancing's, "I've had the Time of my Life," and miming along to the Mickey and Sylvia song. Yet when I think of "No one puts baby in the corner!" it's my dad that comes to mind. The amount of times he's sat there, remote poised, rewinding to that final dance number, a happy smile on his face, is ridiculous. He's a strange man, my father. But he does love his Dirty Dancing. Rest in peace, Mr. Swayze.

Who's going to rescue Baby from the corner now? :(

Happy Tuesday.