As you all know, squirrels and I have a long running feud in that they love to chew on our deck furniture, eat the flowers we plant, be-spoil my tomatoes and occasionally invade my attic, and I love to kill them. In this I am assisted greatly by my much celebrated Daisy Powerline 35:
Well, there I was Saturday minding my own business, when I spy one of the tree rats sitting up on his haunches on the peak of the A-Frame of my roof! I mean, the unmitigated gall!! I immediately stopped what I was doing and tip-toed away to fetch old Daisy. When I returned, there he was, still on his haunches taunting me with his arrogance, as if to say, “no way your Daisy can touch me way up here...” Unfortunately for Mister Squirrel, it was his last thought. One shot found it’s mark, wiping the little squirrel smirk from his little squirrel face and sending him tumbling ass-over-tea-kettle down my roof. I let out a triumphant grunt. Everything was going splendidly right up to the moment when this happened:
Are you kidding me? What are the odds?? So now I have a dead and rapidly decomposing squirrel stuck in a gutter that stands at least 15 feet off the ground, but less than five feet from my front door, and beyond the reach of my longest ladder. I guess I’ll have to borrow one from my neighbor. On the other hand, maybe I should leave him in there as an example to other members of his pathetic tribe as a warning to what will befall them should they try their luck on the Dunnevant roof.
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