Victory Is Mine

Or almost. A matter of days at most. I prepare the victory feast even as we speak.

Victory over parasites. Victory over the hated invaders.

Victory over the squirrels!!!!

Yes, it's so close I can taste it. New roof? Check. ("A lot of squirrel damage, lady. I don't know how the shingles stayed up there.") Oak trees trimmed? Starts this week. And for good measure today I talk to a "wildlife management" specialist. Formerly referred to as an "exterminator."

Isn't that a beautiful word? EX TER MIN A TOR. Powerful yet succinct. Gotta love it.

And I dream of a squirrel-free attic at last. Oh bliss. Oh carnage! OK, relocation. They're not actually allowed to kill the squirrels. They move them 16 miles away, which apparently is farther than even the canniest homing squirrel can manage. I'll settle for "deportation." Has a nice, evil ring to it. Or maybe "transportation." As in, to Botany Bay.

Which I believe is located somewhere in Wisconsin.

Comments

  1. Mark Arlinghaus6:01 PM

    In my religion class in high school I learned the word "defenestration" in reference to the 30 years war. I never thought I would have occasion to use it until those vermin invaded our attic and managed to get into our second floor sun room. Thanks to a heavy pair of leather gloves and the open window, the squirrels faired about as well as Ferdinand's regents did in Prague.

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