Squirrel Wars...

This morning, Biker Dude looked out his window, after hearing the birds all squawking and chatting like there was a cat nearby, and who did he see standing atop the birdhouse like he was King Kong on the Empire State Building?

A squirrel.

He stood there, straight and proud. Like he was the lord of all he surveyed. All below were his subjects.


Biker Dude said, "I don't think so."

Biker Dude went out there, armed with slingshot, to let him know who he was dealing with.

The squirrel watched Biker Dude as he approached. Biker Dude anticipated him trying to get away, but he was ready for that possibility. He had a stone in the sling shot and figured the squirrel had nowhere to go except down the pole that the birdhouse was on. "Ha! Plenty of time for me to get a shot off."

But no. Not this squirrel. What did he do?

He went inside the birdhouse!

Now this birdhouse was a major fixer-upper. It had holes that were so chipped away that you could have driven a Volkswagen through them.

Biker Dude saw the squirrel in one of the larger holes, watching him. So he shot a stone at him. It missed maybe by two inches. Biker Dude thought, note to self, practice practice practice. Just then, the squirrel crawled deeper inside and didn't show his face at all.

Biker Dude waited.. and waited... and waited some more. Meanwhile he heard the squirrel making sounds. He was either laughing at him... or swearing... "rassa frassa... freaking humans..." or maybe he was making a cellphone call to his buddies. But he wouldn't show his face again.

Biker Dude supposed he could have stood there, slingshot in hand, all day long like it was the siege of Troy, and starved him out, but just then a jogger came down the sidewalk towards him, and he didn't want to appear like he was some loony bird lover or psycho serial squirrel shooter, so he went inside for a bit.

After another jogger went by, ( geeez.. can't a weirdo have a little anti-squirrel-privacy? ), Biker Dude went back outside, and the squirrel was still inside the birdhouse.

Still rassa-frassa-ing.

By now, there was a whole line of sparrows sitting on the wire watching the action. One of them had a bag of sunflower seeds and was flying up and down the line like he was a vendor and this was the Biker Dude's version of the roman gladiators.

A voice announcing, "Today, for your viewing pleasure, we present, Man versus Squirrel."

Biker Dude imagined them chirping encouragement to him. But despite firing a couple more stones at the hole, the squirrel didn't show his face or vacate the premises. A collective moan went up from the birds.

Then Biker Dude had a brainstorm. He went over to the post that held up the birdhouse. The birds got all excited about this.

He put his hand against the pole.

The birds got louder and more excited. They dropped all the sunflower seeds to watch.

The squirrel came out of the birdhouse and climbed back onto the roof.

The birds went wild.

Biker Dude smiled. "I have you now sucker." But just as he aimed, two things happened. First, one of bands of his slingshot snapped and Biker Dude was left with a useless slingshot, and second and simultaneously as the first, the squirrel took a flying leap toward a hanging branch of the nearby tree. It was like six feet away but the squirrel caught the very end of it, and like Tarzan climbing a hanging vine, got up into the tree, and onto the roof of the house. Meanwhile Biker Dude scrambled to reconnect the hanging end of the band to the slingshot frame. By the time he got it reconnected, the squirrel was gone. Even if he could have connected it in time, he wouldn't have been able to shoot straight.

"Damn damn damn."

The little bastard escaped.

Biker dude made a mental note to get the set of replacement bands he had seen on Amazon.com and had put off buying. Live and learn. All Biker Dude could do now was go slowly back into the house trying to maintain some dignity in the face of this crushing defeat.

But later in the day, Biker Dude had an idea.

He undid the bolts on the pole, lowered the house down and swapped the old worn out fixer-upper birdhouse with a new one that he had been meaning to put up.

So now even if he climbed up there, there would be no way the squirrel could get into the sparrow sized holes. And even if he did, there would be no way he could get out.

Ha!

But alas, based on the big collective groan the sparrows gave him later as the crowd dispersed, it didn't feel like that much of a victory.