Del listened to my story about the squirrel with interest. She is a squirrel murderer of some accomplishment. She’s known amongst the squirrels as “ch-ch-ch-chiperee-eek,” which means “bitch with the poisoned peanuts.” She engages in squirrel war III because they are very happy to mooch off her garden in season. In the off season, they have been known to inhabit a space above our living room, but have been limiting themselves to that. Until now. Motivated by the catfood supply, which has been spotty outside this winter since it’s been hard to stay motivated to keep feeding “Coony,” who only shows up now and then, when I know damned well the rabbits, squirrels and who knows what else are eating that 40 lbs of cheap cat food a month. So with an acquired jones for Science Diet, the squirrel has decided to brave the humans and cats and dine in.

Let’s call it Houdini. Del caught Houdini exiting the fireplace room by climbing up the open pocket door and disappearing into the pocket. We closed the pocket doors. Again, we were visited by Houdini, pretending to be a cat. Cats can’t go up the walls. So I spent some time having cornered it in the kitchen. When I say cornered, I use the term loosely. Squirrels do three d hide and seek. It climbed up some window dressing and perched itself on a curtain rod. It had knocked over a lot of pots and pans on its way there. I got a broom and poked at it to break the stand-off. It came flying out at me in one of those famous squirrel leaps, but landed in an empty coffee container. It only paused there for a moment. It went whizzing past me and did the Indy 500 around the sink island a few times. I used the broom to try to herd it out the open back door, but, like Houdini, it disappeared behind the stove. Grrr. Cats? Are ye not predators? So how about a little predation? Cats? The cats show less animosity for the squirrel than they do for each other. Chanel seems to think it’s cute. She acts like she wants to play house with it. Hey, whisker face! That little bushy kitty is a fake, and it’s eating your food. Yo. You. I’m talking to you. 

A few nights back, Del discovered the pipe hole that grants this enterprising squirrel access to basement. We plugged it with aluminum foil. Aluminum foil, foiled. Houdini ate right through it, leaving bloody drool on the side of the cat bowl. I brought the bowls into the living room. I replaced them with a Have-A-Heart trap, trip set as light as I can get it, loaded up with cat food. Of course, until I get (somebody) up on the roof to plug the rodent holes up there, we’re permeable. Meanwhile, it has taken over behind the walls. It has access to parts of our real estate that we don’t, and it has every aperture mapped out. I’m sure there are many. Soon, I’ll know how many holes it takes to fill the Albert Hall. I’ve got to count them all. I’ve got to cover them with mesh.

And Del, that Dr. Death with her poisoned peanuts, is preparing to commence hostilities again out in the yard. So Houdini, enjoy it while it lasts. Your humans have got you in the crosshairs.