Yesterday, Jeff and I were doing the Dance of the Realtor’s Coming…you know the one….where you have had the abode on the market for a while, but there have been no showing for over two months, so you’ve started living like pigs, and then suddenly there is a realtor showing the next day? Oh, yeah, that’s the dance!
Anywho, while dusting the bookcase in the living room (where Kieran hangs out to watch the urban wildlife), I noticed that there was a squirrel in the basement apartment next door.
Let me say that again:
There was a squirrel in the apartment next door.
I thought for a minute that maybe he was someone’s pet, but the frantic way he was trying to claw the window out made me think again. I did what any rational person in my situation would do. I yelled, “Hey, honey! Come look at this! There’s a fucking squirrel in the apartment next door!!”
After telling me that there could not possibly be a fucking squirrel in the apartment next door, he came to the window and found that, indeed, there was. Because my beloved is smarter than I am (see why I’m marrying him?), he noticed right away that there was a hole in the window, and deduced that Mr. Squirrelypants must have gotten in the hole, and couldn’t get himself out.
I’m a Look How Cute The Fluffy Thing kind of gal, and wanted to go over there and try to open the window and get the little guy out. Jeff, being a natural selection kind of guy, expressed his opinion that squirrels are just rats with big tails, and thought we should let nature take it’s course. After I pouted for a while and made the sad eyes at him (yeah, I said it. I’m not afraid to use my feminine wiles, damn it. Now, where can I scratch something?), he came up with the splendid plan that we should leave a note for the caretaker next door. We thought that said caretaker would like to know that the window is broken. Oh, yeah, and there’s a squirrel in there busting up the place.
Which, as we were leaving to run errands/get out of the house for the realtor, we promptly forgot to do.
We remembered as soon as we got home, several hours later, and I went to check on the little guy. Not only was he NOT in the window, but there was an IDENTICAL hole below the first one, more within his range, that we deduced he must have escaped from.
Me, being a Animals Are Smarter Than We Give Them Credit For kind of gal, thought that our little bushy tailed friend had punched another whole in the window and escaped. Jeff, being a Bunch of Savages in This Town kind of guy thought that something else – anything else – must have happened.
Because I was so sure that my little squirrel, being smart and fluffy as he was, would have found his own way out of the dilemma, I asked my personal wildlife expert, Julie, for her opinion.
She said there is no way a squirrel is strong enough to go through glass.
I’m still going to leave a note for the caretaker, but I totally want to see if any other critters get in the window….