"What the .....!" Sweet Husband exclaimed as he jumped up from the table during dinner tonight.
Utterly surprised, the Kid and I watched him run to the window looking out onto our screened back porch.
"Why those little....!" He yelled as he ran out onto the porch with a broom in hand. (Can you tell we're working on the potty language 'round these parts?)
The creature that was making Sweet Husband narrowly escape profanity--a squirrel.
As you all know, I am generally a friend to squirrels, but this one is imposing too far. He has now chewed two holes into our very newly refurbished screen. Plus, as soon as I saw him, I immediately became concerned that he was after my precious garlic, which was hanging on the porch to cure.
With all thoughts of finishing dessert forgotten, the Kid and I stormed outside, Moe in tow, to save the garlic! With Sweet Husband's brave assistance, I was able to cut it down, but at that moment, the squirrel--who is obviously due for some natural selection--chose to attempt to flee the porch.
In a confined space with a freaked out squirrel and a terrier in full hunting mode, I'll admit, I screamed and ran back into the house assuming that my son would be right behind me. He, alas, did not, and instead stood in place and began to cry himself.
Thankfully, his dada keeps a level head in a crisis. Sweet Husband scooped up the Kid, handed him off to me for comforting, and ran back outside with his broom to join Moe in defending our home. (Yes, the words "Daddy is our hero!" were repeated over and over throughout the melee.)
Unfortunately, our squirrel "friend" escaped back into the eaves of the porch. After lecturing Moe on his failure, not only to our family, but also to the entire terrier race, we left the squirrel alone...for tonight...and proceeded to complete the bedtime routine.
The question remains, what shall we do? Obviously, he can't stay there. I've ruled out poison (too mean) and firearms (too illegal in city limits), which pretty much leaves harassing the daylights out of that squirrel until he decides to leave on his own. If it wouldn't upset the neighbors I'd blast Carly Rae at him 24/7, like they do in hostage stand-offs. As is, I think we'll just have to continue with the broom and the terrier.
Thankfully, however, at least the garlic has been saved. We now have a nice big bucket, all cured and cleaned and awaiting use in our basement.