{This post was inspired by a tweet from @eatplaylove, directing me to this post about squirrels attacking by @connieaw. I felt it was time to come clean about my hatred of squirrels.}
It all started back in college. There were these huge fat squirrels that roamed campus and bothered students for leftover food. Of course, the students actually fed the squirrels, making for an environment where squirrels were not afraid to come up and attempt to steal your food. I will never forget the day that I saw a squirrel sitting proudly on top of a trash can eating an entire Snickers bar, and doing it just the way a human would with the wrapper pulled down halfway. Snickers apparently does satisfy…even rodents.
Fast forward five years. I’m living in South Boulder, near the foothills and open space trails, when I start noticing problems with my car. After the mechanics pop the hood, I’m informed that a squirrel has taken up residence in my engine. I don’t actually believe it until I see the nest built in the corner of my engine compartment and come to find out that squirrels enjoy eating the wires located around your car’s engine. Turns out, according to the mechanic, squirrels get a little jolt and it gives them a buzz. (Not sure how the mechanic knew that, but whatever.) After receiving the bill for the work done on my car, my hatred for squirrels only increased.
(Related question…what’s so fucked up in a squirrel’s life that it has to seek mood-altering substances anyway?)
Now, in my current place of residence, there are many, many squirrels. They have taken to digging through my recycling bin in an attempt to find something to eat. Despite scaring the shit out of me on numerous occasions, I didn’t have much of a problem with the squirrels…UNTIL…one of them tried to come in my house. I was leaving for work and he was sitting a few steps down from my front door, looking desperately like he wanted in. I took a step closer to him, expecting the squirrel to run away. Instead, he looked at me and took another step closer to my front door.
Hell no. There’s no way I’m inviting a squirrel into my place. Not with the car trouble in my past or the fact that those little fuckers carry the bubonic plaque. Disgusting.
And I’m not looking to keep a squirrel as a pet.
Nope.
So, in a moment of anger and fear, I do the first thing that comes to mind and kick that squirrel off my front porch.
Before PETA attacks, what would you have done if there was a dangerous intruder looking to enter through your front door? It may seem harsh but word must have spread because I haven’t had any of his friends coming by to check out our recycling lately.
Adding insult to injury, here’s an awesome shot I got of a neighborhood squirrel going to town on his privates…
But please don’t think that this evens the score. I still hate squirrels.
