The squirrel. Well, what about him? I guess he’s been trapped up in that room for two or three days now. I can hear him right now. He’s trying to eat a hole through the wooden door, and from the sound of things he’s doing a decent job of it.
I turned on my video camera and kicked the bedroom door open, and I got this shot of the little bugger running for his life.
I’m posting this so you can all fall in love with the cute little thing, “aww wooky, izzoo buzzoo buzzo booba?” –And then I’ll post to say, “So yeah, I just got done slicing the squirrel in half with an axe.”
You city people. Thinking you can buy solutions to all your problems. “Sure, just run over to Canadian Tire on Quinpool and buy a humane trap for $19.98.” I suppose I could head into the village tomorrow and ask for a humane trap at DiCarlo’s General Store. They’d probably say, “Well, we have these extra-large mouse traps, snap his neck, that’s pretty humane.”
I’ll admit I tried. I rigged up this device with a cake tray, a french-fry fork and a half-empty jar of peanut butter that I found in the pantry. The lid had been chewed off, wonder who did that.
Squirrel tripped the trap, but the cake tray lid wasn’t heavy enough and he pushed his way out and got away.
My plan failed. That annoyed me.
And when I get annoyed, vermin need to die.
I’ve named the squirrel “Paulie.” If you’ve seen the movie The Godfather, you might catch that reference. “Oh, Paulie… won’t see HIM no more.”
Questions for you.
1) Would it bother you greatly if I killed the squirrel?
2) Would it bother you greatly if Vickers the cat killed the squirrel?
3) What’s the difference?
So I decided to put out the hit. I gathered up the cat and carried him upstairs. I opened the bedroom door, dropped Vickers inside and shut the door again. Held my breath waiting for sounds of mayhem and destruction.
I didn’t hear much in way of violent rending with teeth and claws or anything like that, so I went downstairs for a while and checked back after a few minutes.
“You watch,” I thought. “I’ll open this door, and the squirrel will be nowhere in sight and Vickers will just be lying on the bed taking it easy.”
Which is exactly what happened.
This cat got a little too cozy on Bloomfield Street. I can see that it’ll take time to arouse his predatorial instincts.
Vickers seems to be enjoying the country. We had a nice time on the ride down from Halifax. For a good part of the trip, he actually sat on my lap while I drove. He made the rounds of the car and seemed satisfied, although there were a couple times when he stood in the back seat with his paws on the window and started mewing.
I think the motion freaked him out a little bit. I said, “Well then stop looking out the window, dumbass.”
Here he is in a super cute pose, sitting up in the back window of the car, as captured in my rear view mirror on the highway just outside Antigonish:
UPDATE: Sunday 6PM. I was getting a little hungry. So I decided to head into the village and visit the Irving station to pick up some milk and a jug of water and maybe a loaf of bread.
Sat down in my car and turned the key. Nothing. Oh shit. Is the battery dead? I didn’t leave my lights on. I didn’t leave the dome light on.
Then I noticed it. There’s a small overhead light up by the windshield. And yes, I’d left it turned on. And yes, my battery is dead.
Looks like I’m not going anywhere.
So now I’m well and truly alone out here. Just me, Vickers the cat and Paulie the squirrel.
I went back inside the house, went upstairs and looked out one of the windows.
Darkness is falling.