I was reading my feed reader this morning and saw TJ’s post, and it reminded me of a little adventure I had about 6 years ago. Hubby had just left for basic training, leaving me alone in our little home in the woods. It wasn’t in great shape, by any means. There was a hole in the bathroom floor. At the time we had two dogs. One was a senior citizen, a Keeshond by the name of Keesha. Hey, on’t look at me, we got her from a shelter at 7 years old and she came with the name. Anyhow, Keesha had a habit of getting in the bathtub on hot days. The only problem was, she’d get in there, but couldn’t get out. That meant someone had to go back there and pick her up and lift her out. But this was something we were used to. No big deal.
Well, one night I’m sitting at my computer, in a yahoo chat room called Mom’s N Dad’s, where we’d been chatting for a couple years, and I hear this scratching coming from the bathroom. I assume (that’ll teach me) it’s Keesha needing out of the tub again. So I get up, and start walking back there to rescue her…only to TRIP over her on the way back, dozing peacefully in the hallway. Errrr…what’s in the tub then? I see the OTHER dog on the couch, so I know it’s not her either. WTF???
I bravely walk balk to the bathroom, theme from “The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly” playing in my head. I open the door and see…a big old gray squirrel in my tub! I don’t know why the little sucker couldn’t get himself out of there, but he was NOT at all happy to see me walk in there. He made noises I didn’t even know squirrels could make, and I’m pretty sure I heard something that started with F!!! So, I’m standing there looking at Mr Fluffy Tail, he’s standing there cursing at me, and I have no clue what the hell you do with a ticked off squirrel in a bathtub. I shut the door and looked for something to catch him in. That’s what I did. The closest thing was a cat litter bucket. So, that became my weapon of choice.
I walked back in (much to the disappointment of Fluffy), and dropped the bucket over the squirrel, luckily his tail was still sticking out, and though I still don’t understand windows being IN the bathroom, particularly the shower, I was glad we had one there. I slid open the window, popped the screen, grabbed the exposed tail and dropped Fluffy out! Oh don’t worry it wasn’t a long fall for the little guy, we had a mobile home for Pete’s sake. Not like I threw him out of the second story window.
At this point, I go back to chatting, and share the story. Six years later I’m still getting ribbing about this. About a week after I got a box in the mail. Something to protect me from the squirrel invasion army. He still sits on my desk, and he still sings “Kung Fu Fighting”
