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The Tale of Four Squirrels – revisit

The same week from hell that was my birthday found us looking skyward searching the roofline to source out the noise we kept hearing. It was a loud clattering and hard to ignore. So when I saw the little heads peeking out of the aluminum soffit hole, I knew we were in trouble. And when I saw the shreds of wood falling onto my porch, I was even more aggravated. Not only was the Fokker family nesting in my eaves, they were shredding my house.

My son and I looked up the definition of rodent one day out of curiosity. It simply said “those that gnaw”. Those cute scurrying furry tree critters had sussed out my house for their home and when they felt too lazy to go out and gather leaves for bedding, they started chewing on the trim work I can’t see up under the aluminum sided soffit. Every time I went outside, I heard their clatter and looked up yelling, “I hear you up there.”

See, my neighbors had experienced run-ins with the neighborhood squirrel gangs. They’d endured nesting and scampering under their roof. Mary had been the be-Jesus scared out of her when a baby squirrel hissed at her. When they opened up the roof, they found these rodents had chewed down and compromised the roof joists. And out my other window, I watch these critters crawl through the slats on the bell tower of the church next door. My arrogance had me thinking it wasn’t going to happen to me. But they showed me.

I called my carpenter and resident huntsman, Mr. Neil, to ask if he could seal up the holes. This is what he said, sort of, ‘cause he’s a country man and I’m a city girl, so I’ll translate. “You’ve got to get rid of the Fokkers first. They’ve decided that your casa is their casa. And you’ll not dissuade them.” He said he had a trap and to tie an ear of corn inside of it and set it up on my roof. Had he known I’d be climbing out onto my roof, he may have come over and done it for me. And, having trapped them,  I could chauffeur them to the local State Park and let them go.

So we wire tied my eight dollar corn from a local supply store the games began. One by one, I caught the three Fokkers and their friend, and drove them to the Park. I chose camping pad eleven in loop A because it had a lot of woods behind it. And I kindly left an ear of corn as camping supplies for them while they got there bearings. Then I called Mr. Neil back up and he and his man Greg returned and patched up my soffit holes. I nervously listened for any signs that we’d entombed any squirrel. Nothing. I appreciated the silence.

We rode bikes around the camping loop yesterday and hollered a greeting to the family as we went by. “Hope the country squirrels didn’t give you too much of a beat down for being city squirrels.” They’ll be safer there if they survive the gang wars. Driving yesterday, I passed a just run over squirrel convulsing on the road and  felt horrible. This time of the year it’s tough not to notice the deer and squirrel bodies littering the roadways. And then I remember, starvation due to overpopulation is pretty sucky too. If the Fokkers are the fittest then they’ll survive in a new home in the woods with a steady supply of campers to feed them Cheetos.

A Tale of Four Squirrels

The same week from hell that was my birthday found us looking skyward searching the roofline to source out the noise we kept hearing. It was a loud clattering and hard to ignore. So when I saw the little heads peeking out of the aluminum soffit hole, I knew we were in trouble. And when I saw the shreds of wood falling onto my porch, I was even more aggravated. Not only was the Fokker family nesting in my eaves, they were shredding my house.

My son and I looked up the definition of rodent one day out of curiosity. It simply said “those that gnaw”. Those cute scurrying furry tree critters had sussed my house for their home and when they felt too lazy to go out and gather leaves for bedding, they started chewing on the trim work I can’t see up under the sided soffit. Every time I went outside, I heard their clatter and looked up yelling, “I hear you up there.”

See, my neighbors had experienced run-ins with the neighborhood squirrel gangs. They’d endured nesting and scampering under their roof. Mary had been scared when a baby squirrel hissed at her. And when they opened up the roof, they found these rodents had chewed down and compromised the roof joists. Not good. And out the other window, I watch these critters crawl through the slats on the bell tower of the church next door. My arrogance had me thinking it wasn’t going to happen to me. They showed me.

I called my carpenter and resident huntsman, Mr. Neil, to ask if he could seal up the holes. This is what he said, sort of, ‘cause he’s a country man and I’m a city girl so I’ll translate. You’ve got to get rid of the Fokkers first. They’ve decided that your casa is their casa. And you’ll not dissuade them. He said he had a trap to tie an ear of corn inside of and set up on my roof. Had he known I’d be climbing out onto my roof, he may have come over and done it for me. And then I could take them to the State Park close by and let them go.

So we wire tied corn I had paid eight dollars for at a local supply store and began. And one by one, I caught the three Fokkers and a friend, and drove them to the Park. I chose camping pad eleven in loop A because it had a lot of woods behind it. And I kindly left an ear of corn for camping supplies for them while they got there bearings. Then I called Mr. Neil back up and he and his man Greg returned and patched up my soffit holes. I nervously listened for any signs that we’d entombed anyone. Nothing. I appreciated the silence.

We rode bikes around the camping loop yesterday and hollered a greeting to the family as we went by. Hope the country squirrels didn’t give you too much of a beat down for being city squirrels. They’ll be safer there if they survive the gang wars. Driving yesterday, I passed a just run over squirrel convulsing on the road and just felt horrible. This time of the year it’s tough not to notice the deer and squirrel bodies littering the roadways. And then I remember, starvation due to overpopulation is pretty sucky too. If the Fokkers are the fittest then they’ll survive in a new home in the woods with a steady supply of campers to feed them Cheetos.

What the Humane Society has Meant to Us

On the heels of my last post, Are You Struck too by Mankind’s Generosity in this Crisis , exclaiming that we must do all we can to give of ourselves now, this is a special post on the Humane Society here in our county. I want to share a little of our family’s story of how we’ve involved ourselves and tried to help them.

When we moved here, we bought riverfront property and it was immediately apparent by the many mouths that came to be fed that there was a problem with feral cats in our county. At the time, there was a discounted program to fix, inoculate, and release the cats. I managed to have some 30 cats taken care of before the new director said we made too much money to use the program. I left her office in tears. I was pregnant and maybe the universe was telling me I needed to just worry about me. The current director agrees that more educated people may be more concerned about the overpopulation of the cats.

What the Humane Society has Meant to Us on Shalavee.com

We’ve still managed to be the custodians of critters here. All three of our indoor cats were Eastern Shore adoptees, two from our county and one at the college in Queen Anne’s county. Plus the lovely longhair calico outdoor cat, Mrs. Cheesewheat. Many cats have been caught/cared for. And anything that eats Purina Cat chow seems to be welcome. Blue Jays and raccoons and some very plump squirrels named Elmo and Cookie Monster. Anytime I spot dead cats on the side of the road, as soon as I’m stopped, I call the humane society immediately. I donate all of my old towels and blankets to them.

A very very friendly young cat visited us last year. Although there would be nothing better than to have a kitten to play with at this time of quarantine, I knew then she would make a wonderful pet for someone because we have a rule that we may only have as many animals as people. Much to my daughter’s dismay, I took her over to the Humane Society. The smell that greets you there is sobering. And so is the sight of the cages piled three high all down the hallway containing cats. I said Hi to one cat on top and suddenly there was a paw protruding from the cage below to get attention. Broke my heart.

 

My children have soft hearts and we’ve encouraged their philanthropy towards this cause. In 2015, my son donated his own money to the Humane Society. And my daughter did the same last year by donating half of her lemonade sales. Recently, we had an opportunity to be generous with some unexpected funds and the Humane Society was extraordinarily grateful. I said it was the least that we can do. And it is. 

 

In 2014 and 2015, I decorated chairs for auctions to benefit the Talbot County Humane Society. I was flattered to be asked to do this and I was pleased with the way the chairs came out. The chairs were sold on and moved on to local businesses.

I’d like to encourage everyone to consider donating anything they can to the Humane Society in your area, be it food, linens, cleaning supplies, toys, or just plain cash to the unsung heroes working there and the animals that still deserve the same care and homes they always have.

Any act of kindness to others is an act of kindness to yourself.

And If you enjoyed what you read, subscribe, via the subscription box in the sidebar, to my thrice weekly posts via your emailbox. And visit me on Instagram to see my daily pictures, friend me or like my page on Facebook. Or come find me on Twitter or Pinterest too. I am always practicing Intentional Intouchness so chat at me please. I live for conversations.

And, as always, Thanks to you for your visit.

Are You Struck Too by Mankind’s Generosity in this Crisis?

One action is striking me in this time of quietly awaiting the restart of our lives. Yes, the absolute idiocy of our American government and how smart my daughter is aside,  the richness and generosity of the human spirit. All the efforts of people to help one another with food and assistance definitely increases my feelings of faith in mankind.

That after we’re over getting through this, we can see exactly what was always important to us as individuals and as civilizations. The word civil being the operative word. Money and fear have been governing our world for too long while our world’s environment and children need feeding and care. No amount of money saved at Walmart will get us closer to these.Are You Struck Too by Mankind's Generosity in this Crisis? on Shalavee.com

If there’s one thing that will make you and me feel better any day of our lives, it’s to make a difference to someone, for someone. So send love to people, both loved ones and strangers alike. Be a part of healing us and yourself. Show up for others without the need to be acknowledged for it and you’ll receive more rewards than you ever imagined.

I am making art everyday for myself and others. I am sending cards and compliments and company. I am feeding the cats, squirrels, blue jays, and anything else that likes Purina cat food. I am being present for myself and my kids. What else is there?

Want to read more of my viral diaries?

Now is When We Need Self-Compassion

What’s a Sunday Feel Like?

What Life Will You Choose When This is Done?

And If you enjoyed what you read, subscribe, via the subscription box in the sidebar, to my thrice weekly posts via your emailbox. And visit me on Instagram to see my daily pictures, friend me or like my page on Facebook. Or come find me on Twitter or Pinterest too. I am always practicing Intentional Intouchness so chat at me please. I live for conversations.

And, as always, Thanks to you for your visit.

Sacrificial Squirrel

Gruesome sights, they’re everywhere. Wild and dead animals, vehicular crime scenes aplenty. Eyeballs popping out or just cold blackened stares. Bloody swaths on the street. Must be Fall.

Beware the frenzied Kamikaze squirrels, ironically with only the business of survival on their minds. Beware the hunted doe running from bucks and bullets. Overpopulation is their unbeknownst doom otherwise.

Sacrificial Squirrel on Shalavee.com

Compassionately I remove the carcasses, the now soulless bodies from the roadway. I delivered a handsome deceased fox back to the woods from where he came. Acting only as the delivery gal back to nature, I launched a squirrel off the precipice offering his carcass to the carrion.

We are a part of the cycle of life. We are these beasts eventually. Their and our time must come. I hope you show me the same compassion when my time arrives and launch me back into the cosmos.

And If you enjoyed what you read, subscribe, via the subscription box in the sidebar, to my thrice weekly posts via your emailbox. And visit me on Instagram to see my daily pictures, friend me or like my page on Facebook. Or come find me on Twitter or Pinterest too. I am always practicing Intentional Intouchness so chat at me please. I live for conversations.

And, as always, Thanks to you for your visit.

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