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I saved a Squirell!


sheetswannabe

Ok, I understand its just a squirell and most people try to kill them but hey.

 

So here I am, at my friends. He just bought a inflatable pool 12 feet diameter and 3 feet deep. So I come out of his house and I see this squirell swimming in the pool. My first reaction is just uncontrollable laughter. Then I noticed he was struggling and I felt bad. So I think quick and I see a loose gutter end spout(or whatever) thats about 3 feet long, and I grab it and stick it out to him, and it sees it and swims towards it and gets on it. So then I put it on the ground, and it was shaking so bad. Most likely fear and cold. So i ran inside and grabbed a pair of gloves and a towel. I dried it off for a few minutes and brought it to a tree and let it go, it finally moved about 4 minutes later. I felt pretty good about it.

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That is pretty cool. It reminds me of the fact that although I don't begrudge anyone for hunting animals and realize that the animal I just ate for dinner didn't die any deader than the one that you shot, I could never be a hunter.
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Still, that was a good deed you did, and should get you some good karma.

 

And it would be very cool of you to extend that karma to our beloved ballclub.

"His whole life is a fantasy camp. People should plunk down $2000 to live like him for a week. Sleep, do nothing, fall ass-backwards into money, mooch food off your neighbors and have sex without dating... THAT'S a fantasy camp."
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Last weekend I helped shoo five (5!) fairly young squirrels out from inside our wall into the great outdoors. It may well have been there first venture outside, so I felt a little like a parent. And relieved that we could close up the hole.
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This past week I have been watching my sisters cat. The cat is probably about 2 or 3 years old and is pretty much an indoor cat. I figured I would let it out every once in a while because it really likes to go outside and it isn't really in any danger because I only have one neighbor and our house is surrounded by fields.

 

Two days ago the cat comes running back in the house with a squirrel in its mouth. The door was open by itself so I couldn't stop the cat. I tried to turn it around and go back outside but as soon as I did it let the squirrel go. The squirrel takes off through the house and my dog and the cat go running after it. I couldn't catch the thing and locked the cat and dog in another room so they would stop chasing it. I eventually got the squirrel trapped in a room and threw a towel on it and let it back outside. At the time it was shaking really bad and wouldn't move. After a few minutes it started making a screeching noise and finally ran away.

 

Then today I find two mice lined up at the porch and found out that the cat clawed a hole in a screen window. I didn't let it out this time. I was calling for the cat to come back in and it came around the corner real quick with another squirrel in its mouth. This time she let it go and the squirrel ran into the house and right out again. I got lucky that time, but this cat is officially an indoor cat again.

 

Sorry to hijack the thread, but I thought of this when I heard your story.

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At first I thought I'd lock this thread down. Next I figured I would have Sheetswannabe banned from the site. I've decided that neither option is worth it because after reading this and typing what was a wicked response, I looked over my right shoulder and saw not Dusty (whom is now departed) but his successor, Lou.

 

Lou was just outside the window staring me down. Daring me to hit the "add post" button. I was almost there, my hand on the mouse, the cursor right there, but he was still staring at me. I knew not to send the original message into cyber land because he was pumping his little left fist at me while smoke from his Cigarette clouded his face. He appeared to be glaring through a fog. A fog of misery and horror.

 

During our stare down I realized that Lou was not in a tree, not on a roof, not on a phone line. He was in fact, hovering in mid air. He just hung there like an infield pop-up. The thing that made the situation odd was not his squirrel cigarette. Not his David Blaine-like levitation trick (I live on the second floor by the way) not his fist pumping, but the photo he produced. He pulled a Polaroid out of his back pocket. It was a picture of the neighbor's parakeet. Lou showed me the photo so I knew who it was and then he made a "cutting" action across his throat using his left paw. The paw was some how deformed. It had 6 fingers, one of which kept flipping me off.

 

Lou made it clear that if I somehow affected Sheetswannabe that the little parakeet named Larry would be offed in some god forsaken way. Maybe a peanut bomb, perhaps a Mack truck driven by a lunatic pigeon wearing a Metallica shirt would accidentally roll over his cage. What ever the outcome, it would not be pretty. I'd then have to face a life of parakeet hauntings. Trust me. You don't want a parakeet haunting you. I know a guy in Alabama who is going through it.

 

Lou is still "hanging out" beside my window but that's ok, I called the cops on him again. The cops know my address. They said they would be right over and I was to remain home. It was suggested I "pack a suitcase for a little trip". Perhaps they are taking me to a safe house. Perhaps, and more likely, they will be taking me to a federal agency where the men in white coats give you white M&M's while you reveal the communist plots launched by the squirrel population in my back yard. I've met those agents before and I think they are going to offer me a job next time I see them. Perhaps it'll be my mission to travel the city's parks taking notes on rodent activities. Scheming, always scheming. Maybe the feds will use me as a plant within the squirrel Mafia's inner circle. I could dress like a plant. I know I could. Green pants, green shirt with a yellow collar, a sunrise colored wool knit cap and some gloves? I could pull it off. I just need to find a clay pot large enough for me to stand in. I'm going to ask at the garden center down the street. They enjoy my company so much and treat me so well that the managers walk along with me and shield me from other customers while I shop for necessities like gopher gunk, lawn guns, bullets that can be operated my remote control, you know, crime fighter stuff.

 

I best get going now. Someone's knocking on the door. It's probably the federal agency and the local cops even though they are announcing themselves as orderlies for "Belleview Psychiatric"

I know the score. I'm down. I'll play it their way for National Security's sake.

 

Oh and by the way-

I think I'll ask them to stop by -your house- sheetswannabe. I'd imagine we'd like to have a word with you. You've clearly aligned yourself with the evil side of things and it's time for a bit of questioning. You may want to bring along an extra pair of socks. (though you won't need them because torture rarely requires proper foot hygiene. I hope nobody can hear me saying this and I'm glad I'm not typing it to warn you. I think putting you into a phone booth with two muskrats and then switching out brains is a suitable solution. I'd best not make an inclination of this though or sheetswannabe will know I"m after him)

 

Bye for now. I need to answer the door and put on one of those neat-o jackets they give ya for the ride downtown.

-I used to have a neat-o signature, but it got erased.
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Jamie, that was perfect. A bit different than what I expected, but still very good. I knew we could count on you making an appearance.

 

I had some funny ones in college. A dorm-mate missed class one day because he was bit on the finger by a squirrel. He showed the teacher the proof...it was an ugly bite.

 

For the most part the squirrels on campus were friendly. They'd hop up to us, look at us funny, then playfully run away. Occasionally they'd wait around and do a dance, hoping to be rewarded with a curly fry or two. A buddy thought they were so nice and polite, that they should be dubbed British Squirrels--later the name of our college intramural squads (nobody wants to mess with a Fightin' British Squirrel). And the team name led to all kinds of promotions for intramural softball. A friend brought his clippers, as we hosted "shorn squirrel day". No squirrels showed up...apparently they'd ALL just had fresh haircuts. So then we tried "Bag o'nuts" day. but the only result was several sapplings popping up on the intramural fields after your's truly did a faceplant on the running track, spilling all the bags. I guess we missed a few of the acorns. Despite all of our promotions, we were unable to attract squirrel spectators...only the occasional significant other of team members.

 

On a different note, I have a friend whose neighborly squirrel likes to ring his doorbell.

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Quote:
Squirrels don't get enough credit. A few months ago in Madison I saw a squirrel cross the street... in the crosswalk, with a walk sign - and I'd swear on my life he even looked both ways. coincidence... I think not.

 

It was bound to happen...accellerated evolution taking place in the city. I've seen cats waltz up to the street with not a care in the world, look both ways, and bolt across a busy street, then resume strolling on the other side. The squirrels/cats that aren't smart enough to do this are already pancakes http://forum.brewerfan.net/images/smilies/smile.gif

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That's very nice of you. While I have no problem with killing squirrels and have even hunted them it is differant watching something frantically struggle to stay alive without doing something to help. Suffering is suffering and it is only humane to stop it when possible.
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