A Serial Squirderer

You know what’s more upsetting than coming out to your newly planted garden and realizing that squirrels or other vermin are chomping it down to the roots?

When your loveable, over-loyal dog decides that he should fix this situation by indulging in wholesale squirrel slaughter.

It’s even worse when your loveable, over-loyal dog decides to shield you from his wholesale squirrel slaughter by burying the evidence in the aforementioned garden.

That’s right. Bubba killed ANOTHER squirrel and buried it in the garden.

Which I didn’t realize until I was out weeding and I hit the squirrel with the tiller.

And if you think that was upsetting for me, imagine how poor Opie felt when I ran into the house screaming.

Apparently, shrieks about murder and death and bodies in the garden do not make for a peaceful morning.

It is interesting to note that following this up with the instruction “Check the tiller for blood!” is not the best way to ease the tension.

In any case, you would think that this would be enough squirrel slaughter for one week but noooooooo! 

Today, Bubba got another one.

He didn’t bury this one in the garden, though, probably because I caught him while he was still deep in the “dead things make the best toys” phase and happened upon him while he was still running around the yard, flinging it in the air.

I did NOT take this well.

I also didn’t take it well when Bubba saw me and decided that I, too, would love nothing more than gallivanting around the yard with a dead squirrel and he came charging up to the porch to share his prize with me.

I won’t detail my inappropriate language and reaction to this situation but suffice it to say that it is something of a miracle that the neighbors didn’t call the police.

Oddly, though, when I finally got Bub to drop the squirrel and come in the house then texted Opie at work about what should obviously be considered an emergency, he did NOT offer to come home and immediately begin carcass removal.

Seriously, some people are so self-involved.

Luckily, there was just enough vodka in the freezer to get me through the intervening hours.

So, to recap, Bubba is a serial squirderer, Opie doesn’t understand what constitutes a real emergency, and vodka is awesome.

 

Wanted for Serial Squirder