Remember my crow incident a couple of weeks ago? Well, Mother Nature and her creatures continue to conspire against me getting a good night’s sleep.
The past few mornings I have been woken up by our courtyard’s latest tenant: A LOUD ANGRY SQUIRREL.
He *screeches* for *hours*.
First of all, I have never, EVER heard a squirrel make a sound. Not ever. Is this something exclusive to Southern California? New York squirrels are quiet. I know that people here in SoCal like to call attention to themselves, but I didn’t think that also held true for the indigenous wildlife.
I have posted a clip of the very odd and very LOUD noises he makes. He reminds me of a pissed off Donald Duck. Remember how Donald would freak out and have his quacking conniption? This is what my squirrel sounds like.
Oh, how do I know he’s a “he”? Because this squirrel has a set of testicles on him that is the envy of every man, woman and beast in the courtyard. I don’t know how he maneuvers his tree carrying around that pouch of his. This boy is bottom heavy, yo. And tree bark has got to chafe like a mother effer.
Maybe he is the next step in evolution for squirrels? Spoken language and huge nads? I’m no evolutionologist, but there’s definitely some genetic mutation happening with this guy. Whatever it is, I’m adding “acorns” to my diet immediately.
After enduring over an hour of his racket this morning, I got up and tried to scare him away. (Of course I kept a sharp eye out for my PETA-Nazi neighbor) He doesn’t respond to noise: I have clapped at him, I’ve yelled at him. He just sits on his branch and stares at me.
What? Because he’s got huge genitals, he thinks he can push me around? I’ve got THUMBS, bitch. Game on.
I looked around the apartment for a bucket to fill with water. No dice. So I filled up, get this, my coffee cup. (This seemed like a good idea at the time.)
I carried my cup of water out to his tree. He sits on the lowest branch about fifteen feet in the air. I steady my weapon, take aim and let the water fly.
He blinked at me for a second, rolled his eyes (yes, I might have imagined that) and went back to his SCREECHING. (Louder)
If you take a 10 ounce cup of water and exert 50 pounds of force on it, what is the dispersal pattern of the liquid at 15 feet? Taking into consideration the force of negative 1g (as I am throwing it straight up) and a steady 5 knot crosswind. And given this dispersal pattern, how much water would hit a 12-inch, fuzzy, well-endowed target?
Put away your calculator, geek. Here’s the answer: NOT MUCH FREAKIN WATER AT ALL.
I think I ticked him with a couple of drops. He gets wetter when he sneezes. I relayed this story to my brother who reminded me that squirrels do indeed encounter rain from time to time so this strategy might be futile.
I was becoming furious. I need to shut this squirrel up, stat. He is driving me nuts (no pun intended). The chatter starts around 6 AM and goes all morning.
What is making him scream like this? He’s been doing it for days.
When I returned to the base of his tree, this time holding a Tupperware filled with water, I saw what was irritating him: a female squirrel.
So, he’s got a lady.
That explains everything.
I gently tossed the water onto the grass and went inside…
She probably nags him about acorn shells all over the place; complains that all they ever do is sit around their tree and never go anywhere; whines about how walnuts make her look fat.
I feel your pain… I’ve been there. But I respect the way you stand up to her.
You’ve got balls.