I have all sorts of things on my To-Do list today, yet I have only managed to cross off a couple things from the list.
One of those things was to pick up the dead squirrel off our patio.
I don’t know why there was a dead squirrel on our patio. I don’t think it was Maggie’s doing as that squirrel was pretty much torn apart and Maggie hasn’t been outside on her own long enough this season to cause such carnage.
I thought about waiting until Vince could handle the Squirrel Removal Chore, but that won’t be until Sunday and I don’t think I’d be able to sleep at night knowing there was a dead squirrel on our patio.
Interestingly, I haven’t yet managed the “Pick up laundry detergent and dog food” chore today, but I HAVE picked up the dead squirrel.
Major score in Jane’s Domain!
Of course, picking up a dead squirrel required donning a hazmat suit and taking a lot of deep breaths. There was involuntary arm flapping and full body shuddering accompanied by the inevitable look of horror on my face while performing the chore, but I always think it’s best not to have stipulations on HOW I’m supposed to perform any chore on my list.
Otherwise, I’d never manage the “Scoop up kitty litter without grimacing” chore.
Yeah, if you know me at all, you know I’m a little squeamish.
“A little”? Puh-leaze. I’m so squeamish that I need a big ol’ wad of paper towels just to pick up a dead fly.
Oh, and by the way, I wasn’t really wearing a hazmat suit when I picked up the dead squirrel, but I WAS wearing Vince’s gardening gloves and had paper towels in my hands as well as several plastic bags within bags – for reinforcement purposes. The gardening gloves went into the trash after I was finished.
Guess I need to add “buy new gardening gloves” to my list, don’t I?
This reminds me of the day last fall after walking Maggie when we had another ordeal. We were on our way up the sidewalk to the front door when Maggie darted into the bushes. Maggie is usually focused on getting back inside once she knows her walk is done so she can scarf down her doggie treat, but not this time.
When she emerged from the bushes, she had a BIRD in her mouth. I mean, there were tail feathers sticking out of my little Yorkie’s mouth and everything!
I shrieked. And I yanked at her harness hoping to dislodge the bird.
Phhht. Like that worked.
My neighbor, Suzy, who was on her way home with her two sweet little Shih Tzu pups (who would NEVER harm a bird), asked me what I was shrieking about.
I managed to babble the words “bird” and “mouth” – but I was incapable of speaking in coherent sentences.
Suzy, who is NOT squeamish, calmly handed me her dogs’ leashes and grabbed Maggie’s. She was trying to get Maggie to open her mouth, but Maggie started growling at her and wouldn’t let go of the bird.
Both Suzy and I needed to get our dogs inside and then leave for work as we had seasonal jobs at the cookie factory together. So time was of the essence here.
Finally, I came up behind Maggie and picked her up, which startled her and caused her to drop the bird out of her mouth.
I have never been so relieved. Or so completely grossed out.
Sadly, little Tweety didn’t make it.
Our other neighbor told me the next day she heard the commotion and, once she realized it was a bird, said she thought it was probably the bird that had flown into her kitchen window – so it was probably injured, if not already dead.
It made me realize that my cute little dog is an animal (ha) when it comes to prey like birds and squirrels. So when she lunges after those critters, she is seriously trying to catch them. And if she ever does catch them, she seriously means business.
I guess it behooves me to protect those little critters, huh? Either that, or I’ll be scooping them off the patio.
Maybe I’d better go buy a multi-pack of gardening gloves. Just to be safe.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to do some more chores. Thank goodness the "drop the cable box off at the UPS Store" requires no grimacing. Or hazmat suits.