The outside of the building I live in is grey stucco.  It actually looks pretty cool, but we quickly discovered an interesting side affect to living in a building with stucco.  It makes it very easy for squirrels to climb our building.  They are always getting in the trash on our back porch and they are very curious about Buddy and Zizzy.

 

The newest development in the squirrel crisis is their presence in the attic.  I grew up in an old house and from time to time squirrels would get in the attic.  So, it took me about a week to realize that they were actually in the attic because I was so used to hearing the scratching of their little nails above my head.

 

Unfortunately, this realization also synched up with a creative project I've been trying to move forward on since February ~ shooting night photography in my attic.  I've been up in the attic when they are up there.  They just sat there and looked at me.  But, I'm not comfortable with the idea of sitting in the dark with them. 

 

So, I 've been upset with myself for being so fearful of the squirrels, even though it is completely rational and wise.  Squirrels can get a little nutty, if you will forgive the pun

 

And wouldn't you know it, Thursday night the Universe stepped in and made me face my fear.  I had an unscreened window in my office cracked barely an inch.  I looked up from a movie I was watching with Ken and froze.  There was a squirrel poking its head in the room.  We've been in the apartment almost five years and this has never happened.

 

Buddy immediately went into Scaredy Cat mode and hid in a closet.  I freaked out and ran into Ken's office.  I wasn't wearing shoes and was irrationally fearful of the squirrel chewing off my toes.  I was also yelling at Ken because I didn't want Zizzy to get close to it (she's very curious).  Ken was understandably yelling like a Grizzly Bear because the whole situation had fallen on his shoulders.  He found Zizzy and threw her in his office with me.

 

Once he got my shoes for me, I ventured out of the office and we went around the apartment with brooms, making all kinds of racket trying to scare it out the back door.  After turning the apartment upside down and seeing no squirrel, we were convinced it must have run out the back door.

 

Feeling confident that the squirrel was gone, we went about our normal business.  Later that evening I was lying in bed and I heard a scratching in the closet (see where this is going?).  I immediately started yelling for Ken, Buddy jumped off the bed and ran into another closet and Zizzy came walking out of the bedroom closet.  I was relieved for a split second until I realized that Zizzy doesnt' make scratching noises like that.  Ken came in the room, looked in the closet and said, "Yup!  It's in there!"

 

Of course I  jumped out of bed, ran in the bathroom and shut the door.  And Ken, my "squirrel slayer", finally got the squirrel out of the house.  Poor Zizzy was beside herself for a good 20 minutes aftwerwards, pacing the bedroom, meowing and snapping, looking in every nook and cranny for a squirrel she wouldn't know what to do with once she found it.  And Ken spent the rest of the evening laughing over and over at how tiny the squirrel was.  It was a baby and couldn't have been longer than four inches.

 

All is well now and the only casualty we discovered was the broken boot on my George Harrison "Yellow Submarine" action figure, a result of a long fall to the floor, and Jeremy is currently missing in action.