I promised to blog about our lovely house sitter, so here goes. We had driven approximately 18 hours over 2 days with a van stuffed to the gills, carrying both a 90 lb. Labrador retriever and a sick 17 month old. Ben and I were exhausted!
We rolled into our driveway, where it was 4 degrees and snowing about 15 minutes after Nehemiah's last puking episode. I got out to clean him up, and Ben went inside to start the bath water, bump the heat up, let the dog have some dinner, and get ready to settle back in.
I finished a cursory clean-up and headed for the house, at which point I hear...
Go! Maltby (our dog) go! Kill it! Kill it!
This might sound odd, but I was actually excited to hear those words, because I was sure that Maltby saw a mouse upon entering the house. He never gets the mice, even when we can hear them, and I thought this was great, because they would finally be on the radar screen for hunting!
I heard a mighty rumbling as our big ole' dog rushed after the critter. What I heard next stopped me in my tracks...
Kill the *$#* red squirrel! Kill it!
Horror struck. A red squirrel?
In my house?! Oh this would be the icing on the cake
. Next came the hearty
,
Good job Maltby!
YELP! (as the squirrel made one last ditch effort at life and either bit or scratched the dog)
No, kill it! Shake it!
And a final
,
GOOD BOY!
At which point I stepped aside in the entry way to allow the dog to carry (prancing the whole way--who am I kidding?!?) his hard fought prize victoriously out the door
. I did not want to go inside anymore. It was better to freeze and stink than know what I feared awaited us.
Then again, it was awfully cold.
So, in we went. I guess it could have been a lot worse, though at the time, it didn't feel like it. We had so much to do, and we were so tired!
We called my parents and mother-in-law to let them know that we arrived home safely, and my MIL graciously offered to come help us clean before we went to bed.
That blasted squirrel had pooped in every single room of the house! We had to wash all of the sheets before we could climb into bed, sterilize the changing table and rewash all of the newly clean cloth diapers, sweep and mop everything, bathe the still sick baby, and clean up the few broken picture frames and pottery oil lamp the squirrel knocked over. I'm still trying to figure out where all of the oil spilled! That bugger was on top of cupboards, on the pot rack, on the sashes of the window frames, in the mail basket, knocked off all of the computer speakers and sensors from the desk, and peed on my kitchen table! Oh the insult!
My husband has always enjoyed hunting the destructive red squirrel, but this year I managed to convince him that they were pretty cute, and they gave our dog some much needed exercise and excitement outside. I'm not as charitable now. It is safe to say there is open season on red squirrels around our house, much to Ben's delight. I see the spark of revenge in those eyes, and I doubt any of us will ever look at the littlest squirrels as cute again!
Ben even filled up the bird feeders around the house. Mostly because we like to watch our bird friends, but the spark was back as he actually hoped it would lure some reds our way! And wouldn't you know it, it has been 72 hours and we haven't even seen one (an oddity for sure)! The guns are locked and loaded, and those squirrels are either quaking in their squirrly boots, or (and this is my greatest fear) hiding out in our basement!
If the saga continues, I'll let you know. Meanwhile I am looking for a counter to add to my blog so that you can track the carnage! ;)