Wednesday, March 02, 2005

Death by squirrel

There is nothing like stumbling out the door for work at 7am, garbage bag in hand, dwelling on the 15 minutes or so of car-related snow removal looming on the horizon, and opening the door to the garbage shed, only to suffer a near heart attack when the world's nastiest squirrel chitters loudly and jumps an inch away from your face.

Any and all trips to the recycling bins or the garbage shed involve the possibility of facing off with squirrel attitude. They're mean, they're territorial and they have no fear of humans. Who am I to intrude on their feasting or their nesting or whatever they're doing in there? I swear, they wait until you're totally off your guard before they lunge out of the garbage bins and over the top of the shed. Even though I *know* they're just squirrels, the sudden movement is always so unexpected that I shriek like I'm about to be axe-murdered. And then I have to apologize to whomever is on the sidewalk because there's just no call for loud public exclamations of "Goddamn those fucking squirrels!" at 7 in the morning.

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