Scooter Squirrel

I would generally consider myself an animal lover. I feel sad when I see animals that have been run over by cars and become roadkill (well really just cats and deer because possums are plain slow and stupid and skunks stink up everything within a 3 mile radius). I think fur coats are not only super fugly (that's fucking+ugly) but unnecessarily cruel to own/wear. Even though my cat of 17 years yell meows at me, has pissed in my house too many times to count, and vomits hairballs, I let him cuddle and shed fur all over my black clothes. I was even a vegetarian for over 10 years. Yeah, I'd say I like animals.

I do not, however, feel an ounce of affection towards the fat bastard squirrel(s) who make my festive fall pumpkin decor their annual snack buffet. The first year we moved into our house the pumpkin massacre was quite brutal. Orange stringy shrapnel was strewn all over my front steps like a post-Halloween apocalypse. I truly thought the culprit was a large animal, perhaps a raccoon or even a fox. Judging by the size of the bite marks, these were clearly the chompers of a big, hungry son of a bitch. Until I saw him. The teeth were big alright. They had to be to keep up with the the caloric intake necessary to maintain the ass girth of this fluffy-tailed mother fucker. He literally looked at me as my jaw dropped and eyes bugged out of my head and then proceeded to go back to snarfing my pumpkin. If I'm not mistaken he may have flashed me a tiny squirrel middle finger. What a dick.

I moved my pumpkins from my front steps up onto my decorative front porch chairs thinking a couple of feet would deter Fatty McNutsack from gorging himself. Much to my dismay when I glanced out my front door the following day he had not only manage to hoist his fat hairy ass up there but now I had created seating arrangement for him to enjoy his feast. Perhaps he rode a miniature electric stair lift slowly up to claim his treasure. If he was a squirrel at Disneyworld he would definitely be riding a scooter to haul his butt around. Not sure how many Weight Watchers points there are in a medium pumpkin but I think Scooter Squirrel was over his quota.

The following year I decided to ban the use of pumpkins in my fall display. It was hard, I mean what do you see as the quintessential autumnal harvest vegetable but a damn PUMPKIN?? I tried the fake ones. They look ghetto and blow away with a strong wind. I settled with a boring assortment of mums and just resigned myself to the fact that my house was too darn close to the woods to take the risk of purchasing any. I think this mediocre fall holiday representation of my crafting and decorating skills led me to WAY overcompensate and go bat-shit crazy decorating for Christmas. But I will discuss my growing collection of Nutrackers and garland obsession in another post....

This year I felt like Jeff Probst. I was going to outplay, outwit, outlast those sons of bitches. I was going to find a way to decorate with a fall display that was worthy of my Martha Stewart-ness. I was going back to my old school, REAL pumpkin roots. I started small, I built a small pumpkin topiary using the flat, Cinderella pumpkins. I glazed them with Mod Podge and sparkled them with glitter. Stacked on top of a flower pot with a bow on top. I felt pretty bad ass. Then I went to a pumpkin farm with my kids where there were MOUNTAINS of pumpkins in every size, shape, color. It was a pumpkin orgy. Green ones, white ones, oval ones, flat ones, tall ones, even freaky ones with long-ass necks that looked like geese. I thought my head was going to explode. I filled my wheelbarrow with as much as I could carry and $62 later I was headed home. Someone told me the Cinderella or ghost pumpkins are actually squash so the squirrels will not want to eat these as much as the sweet orange pumpkins. Because I am a dumb-ass blonde this sounded pretty logical.

For the past week, my array of 6 additional sassy pumpkins has remained untouched. Until today. I'll be God-damned if there weren't giant bite marks and chunks missing from 4 of my beautiful fall orbs. Obviously my goods were newly discovered. Perhaps I has been written off after last year like a Jehovah's house on Halloween with the lights off and a mean sign on the door that says "NO CANDY HERE". But they were on to me. They knew I was back, baby. And I had gone whole hog with my pumpkins. I bet those squirrels were juicing up their little miniature scooters to hit me up like ShuffledBoard Friday Happy Hour at the old folks' home. But they had made one grievous error. See I know their game. I know it might start with a nibble. And so far that's all they managed to score. Checkmate, mother fuckers.

I hauled my ice-cold pumpkins back into my house and came up with a concoction no rodent, even a hungry fat-ass one, would want to sink his teeth into. I was a mad scientist with my Mod Podge, glitter glue, metallic paint, spray adhesive, sprinkle glitter, and Diamond Dust (which is actually ground up glass). I have turned as crazy as Bill Murray in Caddyshack. My fall display is extra sparkly, extra shiny, probably extra appealing. I sincerely hope these assholes are tempted by my craft magic. Because if they take a few nibbles they will chip those giant buck teeth, perhaps gag and be poisoned by my "craft potion", and hopeful slowly bleed out and die at the hands of this vengeful, temperamental  animal lover. My middle finger is bigger than yours and don't think I'm not watching you. I think a squirrel tail would make a lovely tree topper this holiday season.