I hate squirrels. They are a menace to life, and the scourge of my back yard. They have spent the better part of 15 years trying to discover new and more contemptible ways to gain entry into my attic. I have been on a personal mission to wipe them off the face of the earth, or at least my little corner of it, ever since. I hired a company called "Bee Bat & Bird" who assured me that they were equally adept at eliminating squirrels from my property, that I should not be concerned that the word "squirrel" was not on their business card. The fact that squirrels didn't fit with the alliterative "B" theme in no way suggested that they did not view them with equal disdain. Well, 12 months, and $300 dollars later, the Bee Bat & Bird bunch had managed to kill exactly one FLB ( furry little bastard ). That's when I took matters into my own hands. I drove over to Target and bought myself a Daisy Powerline 35 and a box of ammo.
I'll never forget my first "kill". Pam and I heard diabolical scratching noises from the attic one night. I knew it it was at least one, possibly two FLB's up there, so I grabbed the Powerline 35 and slowly cracked open the door to the stairs that led to attic. I flipped on the light and there he was hanging stupidly from the side of a 2x6 rafter not 15 feet directly above my head. With a momentary rush of adrenaline and maniacal glee I squeezed off a shot, hit the FLB in the side of the head, and he fell dead as a doornail directly at my feet. For an instant, I felt like a hardy pioneer man protecting his family from marauding Indians. Then, with a glove-protected hand I placed the beast in a gallon-sized zip lock bag, threw it in a Ukrops bag and placed it in the trash can for curb-side pickup. Just like the pioneers used to do.
After that there have been two or three other victories, the best one coming when I nailed a FLB in a mid-air jump between branches of a pine tree out back...not me, the squirrel. But lately I have been in a slow burn over the latest FLB outrage. Back in early May I sat out my little garden of a couple of squash plants, a cucumber plant and my prized Early Girl tomatoes. All summer I have lovingly tended to them, watching them grow, waiting patiently to enjoy fresh sliced tomatoes in July. This one particular grouping of tomatoes had been a thing of beauty...a cluster of eight, all getting ripe together. It was going to be a feast. Then, one morning I went out on the deck to check on them, they were only 2 or 3 days away from harvest time. Then I saw it, the sickening evidence, the three ripest, most beautiful tomatoes on the vine had a hole the size of a quarter taken out of them by FLB teeth. Deviously, under cover of darkness to hide their foul deeds, they had crept up on my deck and ravaged my prized tomatoes. Tiny black ants now were cleaning up behind them, and my rage was rekindled anew. I have spent the past few days firing off shot after shot. My backyard is what is commonly referred to in squirrel-killing circles as a "target-rich environment". Despite this fact I have as of this writing been unable to send even one FLB to his eternal reward. I have winged several, only to see them scurry off to the safety of the neighbor's yards. I am undeterred. I will not rest until every FLB in Wythe Trace learns to associate 3308 Aprilbud Place as a place of pain and death, their killing field.
With my Daisy Powerline 35 at my side, I know I will prevail!!
I'll never forget my first "kill". Pam and I heard diabolical scratching noises from the attic one night. I knew it it was at least one, possibly two FLB's up there, so I grabbed the Powerline 35 and slowly cracked open the door to the stairs that led to attic. I flipped on the light and there he was hanging stupidly from the side of a 2x6 rafter not 15 feet directly above my head. With a momentary rush of adrenaline and maniacal glee I squeezed off a shot, hit the FLB in the side of the head, and he fell dead as a doornail directly at my feet. For an instant, I felt like a hardy pioneer man protecting his family from marauding Indians. Then, with a glove-protected hand I placed the beast in a gallon-sized zip lock bag, threw it in a Ukrops bag and placed it in the trash can for curb-side pickup. Just like the pioneers used to do.
After that there have been two or three other victories, the best one coming when I nailed a FLB in a mid-air jump between branches of a pine tree out back...not me, the squirrel. But lately I have been in a slow burn over the latest FLB outrage. Back in early May I sat out my little garden of a couple of squash plants, a cucumber plant and my prized Early Girl tomatoes. All summer I have lovingly tended to them, watching them grow, waiting patiently to enjoy fresh sliced tomatoes in July. This one particular grouping of tomatoes had been a thing of beauty...a cluster of eight, all getting ripe together. It was going to be a feast. Then, one morning I went out on the deck to check on them, they were only 2 or 3 days away from harvest time. Then I saw it, the sickening evidence, the three ripest, most beautiful tomatoes on the vine had a hole the size of a quarter taken out of them by FLB teeth. Deviously, under cover of darkness to hide their foul deeds, they had crept up on my deck and ravaged my prized tomatoes. Tiny black ants now were cleaning up behind them, and my rage was rekindled anew. I have spent the past few days firing off shot after shot. My backyard is what is commonly referred to in squirrel-killing circles as a "target-rich environment". Despite this fact I have as of this writing been unable to send even one FLB to his eternal reward. I have winged several, only to see them scurry off to the safety of the neighbor's yards. I am undeterred. I will not rest until every FLB in Wythe Trace learns to associate 3308 Aprilbud Place as a place of pain and death, their killing field.
With my Daisy Powerline 35 at my side, I know I will prevail!!
Oh man Doug I am right here with ya, but I feel like Annie Oakley! I've had about 5 kills myself over the past year. The enemy now knows that if step foot out of my door to run!
ReplyDelete