Hey, you guessed right!
THE SQUIRREL IS BACK.
I kid you not.
At this juncture, he's still in the attic, calculating his nefarious plot to overtake the Miklasz household. It's either the same squirrel or (as per last night's blog) one of his prankster pals.
Preventative measures included closing my upstairs bathroom door, which is nicely floor-to-ceiling tight, so I'm reasonably certain that shimmying through it would be difficult if not impossible for the squirrel and he'll dead end in the bathroom. Literally. Perhaps he'd enjoy a soak in the Jacuzzi first.
Once again paralyzed with fear, I asked my son How! on Earth! I was supposed to get my toiletries and towels out of the bathroom with the squirrel in there (Luke and I will have to share the downstairs bathroom).
Me: "Ack! How will I get my stuff out of there?"
Luke: "Mom, the squirrel is still in the attic."
Luke: "Uh, Mom? Get your stuff out of your bathroom BEFORE the squirrel is in there. Ya know, while he's still in the attic."
Me: "Right! Thanks, Luke!"
God, I love that little voice of reason.
I suppose I should lodge yet another complaint with Animal Control. According to www.cityofchicago.org, the function of The Department of Animal Care and Control is this:
|Animal Care and Control|
|Chicago Animal Care and Control protects animals from inhumane treatment, protects the public from stray and possibly dangerous animals, and enforces all sections of the Municipal Code relevant to animal care and control.|
Right. "Protecting animals from inhumane treatment" would be rescuing the squirrel safely from my house before I illegally procure a Colt 45 and blast it's head off. "Protecting the public from stray and possibly dangerous animals" would involve Animal Control actually showing the fuck up to give me a hand. Neither of those scenarios seem bloody likely to happen today.