They're back. Like an unwanted cold or an unannounced visit from the in-laws, the return each spring of the killer squirrels is never cause for celebration. Yet as I type, there is mad scrabbling in the walls and ceiling surrounding me, and the sound of dirt dropping through our ventilation system. Stupid squirrels. Why can't they take a hint and leave us alone?
I'm putting off calling Critter Control, although I know that's what I'll be reduced to eventually. $150 for a house visit and poison baiting. Never mind that the Harris household has taken a bit of a financial punch this month in terms of cat dental surgery, a new-used car, an eye exam and new contact lenses for me, and just this morning Blair went to the doctor because the cat scratches on his neck is actually a cat bite and inflamed. They gave him a tetanus shot and a 10-day dose of medicine. People, the well is dry.
And ... oh dear God. Something just shuddered in the wall in front of me, right behind the vent. It was the sound a dog makes when it comes out of the water and shakes itself dry. Or the sound a killer squirrel makes before launching itself through a heat vent onto the head of a person sitting at a computer, typing.
Fine, I give. I'm off to call Critter Control right now.