The Squirrel Diaries

The Squirrel Diaries

Day 1

I notice that my BBQ cover has developed some unusual rips and tears recently. I make a mental note to patch them up as soon as I can.

Day 2

Upon closer inspection the tears appear to be getting larger. How very odd. I use the full force of my big, highly evolved brain to try and solve the problem. I notice that the holes in the cover are jagged and frayed; not neatly sliced, as if they had been made with a knife. I rule out unruly teenagers as possible suspects. It couldn't have been the wind either; the plastic hasn't been stretched and holes are in the wrong place. The tears seem random, yet purposeful somehow.

I call upon my years of experience in forensic science (gleaned from countless hours watching TLC and A&E) to find a solution: It almost seems like the work of...an animal? Of course! It's an animal; it must be using the stuffing from the insulated cover to build a nest somewhere. Pesky rodents!

I'll get me some duct tape and learn `em a thing or two!

Day 3

I have purchased enough duct tape to fashion an entirely new BBQ cover if necessary.

I examine the barbecue: The holes in the cover haven't gotten any larger, but there seem to be some bits of paper and grass around the bottom. However, before I can make sense of this, a squirrel's head pops out of the hole and scares the shit out of me. Only now do I realize my folly. They're not building a nest somewhere else; they're building a nest right here! Right here, damn it! I can't have squirrel shit and dander near my food!

I go back inside to regroup...

Day 3 ½

I must rid myself of the squirrels, but how? I could kill them, but I don't have the heart; besides, I wouldn't know what to do with the bodies if I did. I must flush them out! I will scare them away and rid myself of the BBQ cover until winter arrives. By the time that the first snow falls they will have found some other place to live and then I can safely cover the barbecue and look forward to many long summers of dander-free entertainment.

Day 4

I dress for the inevitable confrontation. I don my heaviest ski jacket reasoning that the slick nylon and puffy lining should deflect even the most ardent squirrel-attack. I am also wearing jeans, gloves, my Holden Caulfield hunting cap (with the earflaps turned down) and some safety glasses (think Clark Kent circa 1959). I am also armed with my least favourite broom.

I take a moment to admire myself in the mirror; I do not resemble a warrior so much as a special student out on a day pass. So be it.

A picture is taken for posterity.

I begin by banging my broom against the railing near the barbecue and stamping my feet loudly as I approach. A squirrel tentatively pokes his head out of the hole and stares at me with the evil beady-eyed stare of the damned. I make even more noise and shout profanities at the squirrel to hasten his departure. The squirrel wisely decides to flee. I rapidly advance on the BBQ and whack it a few times for good measure; the coast appears to be clear. I quickly remove the ruined cover and throw out the beginnings of the squirrel nest, and I am done.

Success! Fear me, squirrels! I am the Squirrel Master!

Day 5

I buy a new BBQ cover.

Day 6 to 11

I wait for snow.

Day 12

There's a cold snap and I wake-up to discover freshly fallen snow outside my window. Surely, the squirrels have found another place to live by now. I haven't even seen a squirrel around for what seems like ages. I brush off the snow that has accumulated on my barbecue and replace it with my newly purchased cover.

Day 12½

"They mostly come out at night...mostly" -newt from Aliens

Before I retire for the evening I peek out back to discover a squirrel attack in progress! I heedlessly run outside and chase the cursed rodent away with many screams and taunts. Damn it. I look at my newly ripped BBQ cover and realize that I'm not a Squirrel Master at all; I'm just a Squirrel Baiter who's prolonged the inevitable. Outwitted by vermin, I hang my head in shame.

After a long time, I look up and I see my surroundings as if I am looking at them for the first time; I notice that all of my neighbors have barbecues, and then I realize that none of them have covers...

...and I laugh.

Fin