Squirrel Nightmares Yet Again. Man this is Crazy. A Diary of Madness.

[brewerjamie15]

In case anything happens to me I need to have a written record for legal purposes. If I am victim to some horrific accident, please contact the local police and share this information so that Johnny Law can catch this 8 ounces of holy terror before he takes over the planet.

 

8/23/08-

 

Warm today. Went out to check on my tomato plants. Saw a squirrel. My nemesis seems to have cloned himself 100 fold. He's all over my back yard, in the trees, shrubs, garage, the fence, telephone wires, grass, our porch, hole in the tree, all over. He's watching me. Plotting his next move. I have to attack soon or fall prey to a cunning rodent looking to establish a name for himself in his gang.

 

8/25/08-

 

I've contacted an attorney in regards to this newly anointed gang member. I want to sue this squirrel for all he has. Harassment, damages to garden plants, mental anguish. The attorney laughed and hung up on me. This is obviously a tactic of the squirrel and he must have been holding the lawyer at claw point telling him what to do. I can not figure out how the squirrel knew which legal firm I would contact. It is now apparent he has tapped into my brain waves. I must stop thinking.

 

8/26/08-

 

I paid off a rabbit with $65 cash to obtain my enemy's name. He goes by the street name "Bushy-T". Good info. That rabbit is solid. I bet if I keep paying him cash, he'll be a fine addition to my arsenal.

 

8/26/08 evening time-

 

Paid another $50 for the name of the gang Bushy-T is in. Zoo-14. Zoo-14 is headed by a Wombat named Mike. Mike's street name is Mike.

 

8/30/08-

 

Kind of stumbled on a good idea last night while drinking beer in the garage. I was listening to ABBA's Greatest Hit the album on my stereo while doing the moon walk. Luckily for me, I slipped on an empty beer bottle and hit my head on the table saw. Hit my head on the table saw. When I got up and polished off the rest of the Miller High Life I hit play again on the greatest hit CD when the snow blower started talking to me. It's a Honda, so he spoke only Japanese. The snow blower was a bit tough to understand at first seeing as there was a tarp over him, but I understood. He empathized with me in refrence to the Bushy-T problem.

I took "Hondo's" advice and fired him up. I chased the squirrels around the back yard trying to eliminate them. I figured that stripping down to my boxers would help with aerodynamics. I was hoping to run faster.

Apparently the next door neighbors are working with Bushy-T because they called the cops. They say that 3 am is too late for loud music and snowblowers driving around the back yard. My in laws must be in cahoots with the Zoo-14 gang because they yelled at me about the missing grasss about the width of a snow blower in the yard. Who would have thought the grass that shot out of the chute would actually stick to the wooden fence? Looks kind of nice in my opinion.

 

 

 

I'll have to update my files later. Look for revisions to this post shortly as I will enter my logs as I get time.

 

9/1/08

 

Out in the garage again last night. I was working on some chores when I had an idea to establish my perimeter. I outlined my entire back yard with fire crackers, every 5th foot was an M-80. I strung them all together and put the master igniter by the back door. I could easily and quietly light the wick and watch furry pieces of Bushy T fly all over the yard. While practicing some blow torch tricks I accidentally lit the whole damned string line of explosives. Made a cool show and taught those Zoo-14 chumps a thing or two. No street lights needed last night, our yard was aglow for hours. One nice thing about the accident: the grass is no longer stuck to the fence. Bad news: Fence is in the yard across the street. That's okay though, let's me see the enemy coming from farther away.

 

9/3/08

 

Went to the Army surplus store today. Got some dynamite. No accidental discharges this time, I promise. I had a bit of a revelation this morning. The tree in my neighbor's yard seems to be harboring some of Bushy-T's gang members. Birds and chipmunks both. I must eliminate the tree which is being used as a headquarters for evil doings. I went over there and wound the dynamite around the base of the tree quietly so as not to tip my hat to my brilliant move. I set up a remote detonator and carried it into my house and to our living room. I wanted to hide it someplace good, so I put it under the seat cushion of my wife's chair. She came home earlier than I thought and sat down to take off her shoes. The tree is gone now, went bye-bye. As a plus, if the folks next door want a new basement, I got them covered. Man, that was loud.

 

9/4/08

 

Neighbor's house is for sale. They must be relocating for work. I hope they have a nice time. I found the rabbit I had been paying for information in my backyard dead. Bushy must have gotten to him and made it look like natural causes. I called the cops to let them know. They stopped by to investigate a bit later. I showed them the body and asked them to check the rabbits pockets for cash. I hoped to get some of my money back. They must have felt bad for me because they let me take a ride in their car. I got to meet some folks who liked wearing white coats at their work place. They even gave me some M&M's! They must have gotten a special edition of candy, they were solid white. Unfortunately, they tasted terrible. I didn't tell the people though, I didn't want to hurt their feelings so I only ate six. I must have been really tired because I slept for about 36 hours. Nice. I tried to call my mom and tell her how much fun I had eating candy, but she won't return my calls. I think it's because she is a secret government agent. She is probably a para trooper for Delta Force. Sweet. Now Bushy's in trouble. I have a pro on my side!

 

 

More updates later. I have to find the rest of my daily logs.

[hawing]

Is your back bothering you again, Jamie? http://forum.brewerfan.net/images/smilies/wink.gif

[Thurston Fluff]

funny stuff Jamie. We have a squirrel in our neighbor's yard that makes this god awful screeching noise all day long. It sounds like an animal in agonizing pain but it's just a seriously POed squirrel so I can sympathize with your annoyance.

[nate82]

How about a squirrel slingshot?

[hammytime]

Jamie, I don't know if I should tell you or not, but I support the squirrels. However, my mom and sister have the same problems as you--squirrels stealing seed, and getting the suet blocks during the winter out of their wire cages/holders. At the very least, I found your thread "entertaining", shall we say?

[Point Beer Is Best]

I have a problem with voles. They're really sneaky. Hiding like cowards beneath the snow, leaving me completely unaware of their existence until the spring thaw when my lawn looks like labyrinth:

 

 

http://www.extension.umn.edu/yardandgarden/YGLNews/images2/voles1.jpg

 

(This isn't a picture of my lawn, but mine looks very similar to this in the spring).

[brewerjamie15]

That's a sweet video.

Just so you guys know, I'd not actually kill a squirrel, they just drive me nuts.

Stay tuned for even more updates to the log.

[EdgarDiazRocks]

I could lend you my dog. She's put two of the little rodents in the ground.

 

 

http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3443/3303968324_049e1a27b6.jpg

[JumpinMacFlash]

Jamie, you'll probably be distressed to hear this, but my father embraces squirrels. He likes watching them craftily steal seed from his bird feeders. He likes to laugh when the jump around all nimbly-bimbly.

 

Dad needs help.

[hawing]

EDR, did your dog simply give the rodents a lashing with her tongue? Because it looks big enough to do the trick.

[EdgarDiazRocks]

EDR, did your dog simply give the rodents a lashing with her tongue? Because it looks big enough to do the trick.

She's cooked in that picture from chasing the Kong.

 

The squirrels weren't up to her play toy standards. They broke real easy. I have a mausoleum going in a flower bed.

[Fatter than Joey]

My wife's grandfather used to feed squirrels peanuts out of his hand, and then eat the squirrels when he got hungry.

[jjgott]

My wife's grandfather used to feed squirrels peanuts out of his hand, and then eat the squirrels when he got hungry.

 

Why wouldn't he just eat the peanuts?

[Fatter than Joey]

Ultimately I think the squirrels pissed him off more than the peanuts did.

[Thurston Fluff]

She's cooked in that picture from chasing the Kong.

 

Is there anything more satisfying to see than a dog worn out from playing? They have such a happy/content look about them. Your dog certainly does.

when mine catch something they snap it then drop it and forget about it. My last dog caught a rabbit then came in the house all happy prancing around with a bloody rabbit in it's mouth. I took quite a bit of convincing to get him to let go. So gross.

 

Ultimately I think the squirrels pissed him off more than the peanuts did.

 

or he was afraid of choking on the peanut shells. squirrel bones are harder to choke on.

[Weirdos19]

I have a Chocolate Lab and he loves to kill rabbits. I get the bonus plan though. He eats about 90% of the rabbit, and leaves the head on my deck by my back door. He caught 9 or 10 last spring.

 

Our Dachshund, Schnitzel, likes to get his head into the rabbit holes and drag em out, then Hunter (the lab) chases em down.

 

Pretty unfair of the two, eh? They're like a well oiled machine.

[Nottso]

Neighborhood Hazard (or: Why the Cops Won't Patrol Brice Street)

 

I never dreamed slowly cruising through a residential neighborhood could be so incredibly dangerous!

Studies have shown that motorcycling requires more decisions per second, and more sheer data processing than nearly any other common activity or sport. The reactions and accurate decision making abilities needed have been likened to the reactions of fighter pilots! The consequences of bad decisions or poor situational awareness are pretty much the same for both groups too.

 

Occasionally, as a rider I have caught myself starting to make bad or late decisions while riding. In flight training, my instructors called this being "behind the power curve". It is a mark of experience that when this begins to happen, the rider recognizes the situation, and more importantly, does something about it. A short break, a meal, or even a gas stop can set things right again as it gives the brain a chance to catch up. Good, accurate, and timely decisions are essential when riding a motorcycle…at least if you want to remain among the living. In short, the brain needs to keep up with the machine.

I had been banging around the roads of east Texas and as I headed back into Dallas, found myself in very heavy, high-speed traffic on the freeways. Normally, this is not a problem, I commute in these conditions daily, but suddenly I was nearly run down by a cage that decided it needed my lane more than I did. This is not normally a big deal either, as it happens around here often, but usually I can accurately predict which drivers are not paying attention and avoid them before we are even close. This one I missed seeing until it was nearly too late, and as I took evasive action I nearly broadsided another car that I was not even aware was there!

Two bad decisions and insufficient situational awareness…all within seconds. I was behind the power curve. Time to get off the freeway.

I hit the next exit, and as I was in an area I knew pretty well, headed through a few big residential neighborhoods as a new route home. As I turned onto the nearly empty streets I opened the visor on my full-face helmet to help get some air. I figured some slow riding through the quiet surface streets would give me time to relax, think, and regain that "edge" so frequently required when riding.

Little did I suspect…

 

As I passed an oncoming car, a brown furry missile shot out from under it and tumbled to a stop immediately in front of me. It was a squirrel, and must have been trying to run across the road when it encountered the car. I really was not going very fast, but there was no time to brake or avoid it-it was that close.

I hate to run over animals…and I really hate it on a motorcycle, but a squirrel should pose no danger to me. I barely had time to brace for the impact.

Animal lovers, never fear. Squirrels can take care of themselves!

Inches before impact, the squirrel flipped to his feet. He was standing on his hind legs and facing the oncoming Valkyrie with steadfast resolve in his little beady eyes. His mouth opened, and at the last possible second, he screamed and leapt! I am pretty sure the scream was squirrel for, "Banzai!" or maybe, "Die you gravy-sucking, heathen scum!" as the leap was spectacular and he flew over the windshield and impacted me squarely in the chest.

Instantly he set upon me. If I did not know better I would have sworn he brought twenty of his little buddies along for the attack. Snarling, hissing, and tearing at my clothes, he was a frenzy of activity. As I was dressed only in a light t-shirt, summer riding gloves, and jeans this was a bit of a cause for concern. This furry little tornado was doing some damage!

 

Picture a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a t-shirt, and leather gloves puttering maybe 25mph down a quiet residential street…and in the fight of his life with a squirrel. And losing.

I grabbed for him with my left hand and managed to snag his tail. With all my strength I flung the evil rodent off the left of the bike, almost running into the right curb as I recoiled from the throw.

That should have done it. The matter should have ended right there. It really should have. The squirrel could have sailed into one of the pristinely kept yards and gone on about his business, and I could have headed home. No one would have been the wiser.

But this was no ordinary squirrel. This was not even an ordinary pissed-off squirrel.

This was an evil attack squirrel of death!

Somehow he caught my gloved finger with one of his little hands, and with the force of the throw swung around and with a resounding thump and an amazing impact he landed square on my back and resumed his rather anti-social and extremely distracting activities. He also managed to take my left glove with him!

The situation was not improved. Not improved at all. His attacks were continuing, and now I could not reach him.

I was startled to say the least. The combination of the force of the throw, only having one hand (the throttle hand) on the handlebars, and my jerking back unfortunately put a healthy twist through my right hand and into the throttle. A healthy twist on the throttle of a Valkyrie can only have one result. Torque. This is what the Valkyrie is made for, and she is very, very good at it.

 

The engine roared as the front wheel left the pavement. The squirrel screamed in anger. The Valkyrie screamed in ecstasy. I screamed in…well…I just plain screamed.

Now picture a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a slightly squirrel torn t-shirt, and only one leather glove roaring at maybe 70mph and rapidly accelerating down a quiet residential street…on one wheel and with a demonic squirrel on his back. The man and the squirrel are both screaming bloody murder.

With the sudden acceleration I was forced to put my other hand back on the handlebars and try to get control of the bike. This was leaving the mutant squirrel to his own devices, but I really did not want to crash into somebody's tree, house, or parked car. Also, I had not yet figured out how to release the throttle…my brain was just simply overloaded. I did manage to mash the back brake, but it had little affect against the massive power of the big cruiser.

About this time the squirrel decided that I was not paying sufficient attention to this very serious battle (maybe he is a Scottish attack squirrel of death), and he came around my neck and got IN my full-face helmet with me. As the faceplate closed partway and he began hissing in my face I am quite sure my screaming changed tone and intensity. It seemed to have little affect on the squirrel however.

The rpm's on The Dragon maxed out (I was not concerned about shifting at the moment) and her front end started to drop.

Now picture the large man on the huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a very ragged torn t-shirt, and wearing one leather glove, roaring at probably 80mph, still on one wheel, with a large puffy squirrel's tail sticking out his mostly closed full-face helmet. By now the screams are probably getting a little hoarse.

Finally I got the upper hand…I managed to grab his tail again, pulled him out of my helmet, and slung him to the left as hard as I could. This time it worked…sort-of. Spectacularly sort-of, so to speak.

 

Picture the scene. You are a cop. You and your partner have pulled off on a quiet residential street and parked with your windows down to do some paperwork.

Suddenly a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a torn t-shirt flapping in the breeze, and wearing one leather glove, moving at probably 80mph on one wheel, and screaming bloody murder roars by and with all his strength throws a live squirrel grenade directly into your police car.

I heard screams. They weren't mine...

 

I managed to get the big motorcycle under directional control and dropped the front wheel to the ground. I then used maximum braking and skidded to a stop in a cloud of tire smoke at the stop sign at a busy cross street.

I would have returned to fess up (and to get my glove back). I really would have. Really. But for two things. First, the cops did not seem interested or the slightest bit concerned about me at the moment. One of them was on his back in the front yard of the house they had been parked in front of and was rapidly crabbing backwards away from the patrol car. The other was standing in the street and was training a riot shotgun on the police cruiser.

So the cops were not interested in me. They often insist to "let the professionals handle it" anyway. That was one thing. The other? Well, I swear I could see the squirrel, standing in the back window of the patrol car among shredded and flying pieces of foam and upholstery, and shaking his little fist at me. I think he was shooting me the finger…

That is one dangerous squirrel. And now he has a patrol car…

 

I took a deep breath, turned on my turn-signal, made an easy right turn, and sedately left the neighborhood.

As for my easy and slow drive home? Screw it. Faced with a choice of 80mph cars and inattentive drivers, or the evil, demonic, attack squirrel of death...I'll take my chances with the freeway. Every time.

And I'll buy myself a new pair of gloves.

[hammytime]

 

thanks to my sister for this one--I was talking about this thread with her, and she sent me this gem

[SenatorShriv]

I've heard that there is a funeral parlor in Madison that has a display in the basement with a bunch of taximdermied squirrels posed participating in human activities like attending a carnival, playing poker, etc... I guess that they do tours but you have to call ahead and it is kind of on the whim of the owner. I've always wanted to check it out but I can't remember the name of the place and I keep forgetting to ask my coworker who originally told me about it.

[hawing]

It's the Cress Funeral Home (used to have Sanfilippo in the name too, I don't know if it still does) on University Avenue, out toward Middleton.

 

linky goodness

[SenatorShriv]

Sweet. Have you ever done the tour? Is it as weird as it sounds? Can you just call and set up a tour? So many questions...

 

Edit: So many answers! http://www.roadsideamerica.com/story/2247

[hawing]

I have not been there, either for the tour or for a funeral (knock on wood). We just drive by there fairly often is all.

 

Sorry to take your topic on a tangent, Jamie. I think we should kidnap Jamie and make him see this display. Imagine the nightmares. http://forum.brewerfan.net/images/smilies/smile.gif