Wednesday, August 3, 2011

The Funk of 40,000 Years

I have a storied and somewhat ill-evolved history with squirrels.  For over 25 years, whenever someone called them rats with a fluffy tail, I defended their fluffy cuteness.  When walking through the Public Garden, I would often stoop down to feed one of them a potato chip directly from my hand.  When I would see one crossing the street, I would slam my brake and swerve to avoid hitting them.  In short, I was a squirrel's friend and a real delight.

Then came San Francisco.  Behold the photographic evidence:

See that little grey blur right in the middle of the picture?  That's a squirrel charging at me in Golden Gate Park.  That little bugger not only chased me down, it also climbed my pant-leg to get to my chocolate chip scone.  I shook it off, but not without severe emotional trauma. 

Look, I was so pro-squirrel, even after this event, that I just laughed at the cherished memory of it scaling my leg past my kneecap in order to swipe food from me.  But squirrels, you have done me wrong now.  Very very very wrong.

The date:  this past Monday night.  The time:  9 PM.  The scene:  Me going to the fridge to eat something despite the fact that I wasn't hungry.  Scene:

DH:  "Mom, WHAT is that smell????????????"

Mom:  "Your dad ate some canteloupe [sidebar:  I hate canteloupe and it smells like horrible rancid crap to me, so this was a likely scenario.]

DH:  "NO no no no no no no this is WAAAAAHAAAY worse than that.  EW!  [sniffs air while fridge door swings shut]  It's coming from there [points toward study, two rooms away]!!!!!!"

DH and Mom walk towards study, stench gets severely worse and very very overwhelming.

DH:  "Ewwwwwwwwwwwww WTF it reeks in here!!!!!!!!  It smells like DEATH.  I told you we have critters in the attic!  The effing pest guy came and everything!  It must have died in the wall!!!!!!  BLECH."

Mom:  "I don't smell it."  [ calls dad over]

Dad:  "I don't smell anything."

DH:  "BBBRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!!!"  [calls fire department]

The fire department came over and told us, yes it's a dead squirrel somewhere in the wall, stinking up our house for conceivably the next 4-6 weeks or more until it decomposes and gives us respite from it's disgusting malodorous body smell. 

In short, squirrels of the world, I'm SO OVER YOU.  You've lost an ally this week.  I might just go buy this mug:

Update:  As of right now, 8/4/11 at 11 PM, the smell has VANISHED.  WTF??????

1 comment:

  1. I read this yesterday, and didn't really have anything to say...I've had no real experiences with squirrels, besides watching them jump from tree to tree. And (knock on wood) no experience with dead things in the house besides what the cat has brought me as a "gift."

    But apparently your story sunk into my subconscious, or something. Because I just spent all night dreaming about a squirrel invading my apartment in St. Petersburg, Russia. Not that I've ever been anywhere near Russia. But it was a dream, and it was definitely in St. Petersburg.

    And the squirrel -- he was like Wile E. Coyote...dropping bombs, chewing out bits of the floor, other unsquirrel-like behavior. And I didn't have Road Runner's adeptness at avoiding the traps. So I spent all night dreaming I was trapped in a Warner Brothers cartoon meet "Home Alone."

    Now I'm awake, and experiencing that post bad-dream perturbation, and I feel irrational anger at a squirrel that I've never really met. Thanks.