Nutty-ness

Last week I acquired a new tenant in the horse barn; a baby squirrel who thought I was his new BFF. As cute as he was, the little rodent in a fur coat was constantly under foot.

No really, I almost squished him several times.

The other night, Sir Nuts-A-Lot decided he was having a sleep over in Mr. Dee's stall. Still suspicious he may be a rabies-carrying vermin, I tried politely shoo-ing him out. He just ignored me and continued to roll around making little squirrel angels in the shavings. So then I tried pushing him with my boot. In an act of defiance, he went all stiff-legged and refused to budge. With nails digging into the wood floors and little squirrely skid marks all the way, I finally managed to get him into the hallway where he had a clear, straight shot out of the barn. But no, the stubborn little rat in a fur coat just sat there, refusing to leave. But now, as I booted his little squirrel behind nudged him onwards, he started to growl and lunge at me. Little bastard. The louder I cried yelled at him to leave, the louder he growled and jumped up and down angrily.

By now it was nearing midnight, and I couldn't let the horses in until the little squirrel was out of the way. As much as he was making me cry angry, picking up smooshed squirrel wasn't a pleasant option, for either of us. So I filled a bucket of water and tried to wash him out of the barn. He rode the wave of water a few feet and then turned back to look at me. He was not too happy. But still not budging.

By the second bucket of frigid water, he just looked plain pathetic and terribly sad as he slowly scampered out of the barn. Defeated.

I, unfortunately, spent the rest of the night reading up on Eastern Grey Squirrel and how you should never allow the baby squirrels to get cold and wet or they'll die a horrible death by hypothermia.
I'm a horrid baby squirrel killer. I. suck.

Or so I thought.

The next morning Nutty McNutNut was back out to greet me, no worse for the wear. But by then I had decided I needed to break out the Hav-A-Hart trap. Sadly, I have no idea how to set the damn thing. And while I tried figuring it out, he ran in and out of it, playing, and having a great time trying to figure out what the hell I was doing.

At least he was nice enough to pose for a picture with the trap.

By Day 3 he made himself right at home. He put on a great show for a crowd of people I had at the barn; playing amongst their feet, scampering around in everyone's way, mocking me by standing on his little Hav-A-Hart trap.

I finally had my victory when I caught the little bugger on Saturday night! As I laughed triumphantly at him in his cage, this little guy came to see what all the ruckus was about.

D'OH!
I quickly grabbed a bucket, and laid it on the ground...

...and he walked right in!

So now I had two squirrels, and it's Sunday morning...what to do? What to do?
And then it dawned on me!

HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY, MOM!
Aren't I just the best daughter ever?

And they're living the good life, being pampered squirrels.

Unless we get a hankerin' for squirrel melts...