The Crusade

It was Mark’s daily habit to check on the many birdfeeders he had around the yard. Some had regular bird seed, some had finch feed, there were sunflower seeds, and nectar for the hummingbird feeders. I’m not sure when this started but it was important to him to make sure the birds feeders were always full, especially in the winter. “They have a hard life out in the cold,” he’d say to me as he headed off to the store to get more seed.

Besides loving to provide food for the birds, he also loved observing them. He could name every bird that came to the yard and whether or not they were male or female. If it was unfamiliar to him he’d sit on the screened porch and comb through his bird book until he was sure of the species and then come in and show me what new bird had come by for a visit. His constant nemesis in this hobby, though, were the squirrels. Over the years he bought many squirrel-proof feeders which lasted about a week before they figured out how their entire family could snack on the food he bought for the birds. “They’re nothing but rats with tails,” he’d say to me, and what started as an annoyance became a full-blown war. We’d be eating dinner and he’d keep an eye on the backyard. If he spotted a squirrel at the feeder he’d jump out of his chair, sometimes knocking it over to run out and scream and flail his arms at them to get away from his birdseed. The velocity of him launching himself out of his chair would give me a near heart attack every time. “I don’t know about the squirrels,” I’d say, “but you scared the hell out of me.”

One day he came up with the idea to grease the pole the squirrels had to climb to get to the feeder. He grabbed some Crisco out of the cabinet, took it outside, and slathered it on the pole. “Hee, hee, hee,” he chuckled, “let’s see how they get into my feeder now.” This lasted a few days until the squirrels got Paw Pole Grabbers at the Squirrel Store and were right back in his feeder taunting him. “Those son of a bitches,” Mark would mutter.

Finally he got a squirrel trap and started baiting them. He’d cackle at them when they landed in squirrel jail and would load the trap into the car and let them go in the park a few blocks away. “You know,” I’d tell him, “they’re back in the yard before you even pull into the driveway. I can tell by their markings. You know how you can tell birds apart that way? That’s how I identify squirrels.” There was absolutely no truth in this. I just wanted to mess with him. He told me I was full of crap but after that conversation he started dropping them off at a park five miles away.

When the gardening bug hit Mark, the squirrel population doubled. They loved his tomatoes, so tasty. His trapping took on a new urgency so he bought another one and was jailing them and releasing them nearly daily. He started counting his trapped squirrels and would tell the neighbors. “Guess how many I’ve gotten so far? 47!!! 47 furry rats are no longer in this neighborhood and you are welcome.” I’d sigh and roll my eyes and wonder if he was tallying his catch on the garage walls. It was like living with the Rain Man.

Sometimes his trapping would be a problem for me. Squirrels in cages have high amounts of anxiety and would run back and forth in the cage frantically. If they got trapped in the morning they wouldn’t get released until he got home from work and probably died from adrenaline overload shortly after they got sprung. One time two little girls knocked on the door. They had seen a squirrel in the trap as they were walking by and were highly distressed. I told them that the squirrel was fine and he’d be going to a new home in, oh, about fourish hours. This didn’t satisfy them and they stared at me with their sad eyes until I went out and let it go. “You can’t trap your squirrels in the side yard,” I told Mark. “I can’t deal with distraught, little girls knocking on our door as they’re walking by.” He considered this for a bit and said, “Did you tell them that they are furry rats? That I’m actually doing a service for this entire neighborhood in getting rid of them?” “No,” I said, “they’re little girls. I didn’t want to ruin their happy, little world with your rat ramblings.”

One day I was at work and had to go into a staff meeting. I was expecting a call from a doctor’s office so I took my phone in with me and twenty minutes later it rang. I ducked out of the meeting and into the hallway. It wasn’t the doctor’s office on the phone but Mark.

M: Hey, Kath, yeah, so just wondering something. Is your car in the parking garage where you usually park?
K: Yes, why? What’s up?
M: Funny thing. Kind of crazy, actually. I took a shower and shaved and kept thinking there was something I was forgetting to do. I rode to work and I kept thinking and thinking the whole way. So I get to my office and then it hits me. I trapped a squirrel and put it in the back of your car and forgot to let it go before you left for work.
K: Are you…
M:
K: Are you….
M:
K: Are you telling me that I drove to work this morning with a fucking squirrel in the back of the car? Are you really telling me that?
M: Yes. Yes, I am.
K: Why? Why would you do that?
M: Maybe you didn’t hear me. I said I forgot.
K: Who forgets a live animal in the back of a car?
M: Me.
K:
M: It’s kind of funny don’t you think?
K:
M:
K:
M: Are you there?
K: Yes.
M: You’re not saying much. What’s wrong?
K: Oh, I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I was driving around this morning with a fucking squirrel in the car. Maybe it’s got me a little wigged out.
M: I’m surprised you didn’t hear it.
K: I heard a rattle but I thought something was wrong with the car.
M: Nooooooooo. That was the squirrel. Probably had a nice nap and then woke up and was like hey I’ve gotten kidnapped and now she’s taking me across the state line.
K:
M: Then he probably sent signals to the posse that he’s a victim in a squirrel felony.
K:
M: You’re not saying anything again. You aren’t mad are you?
K: Nooooooooo. Why would I be mad?
M: Good, good. Okay, I’m going to ride over on my bike and let it go.
K: I swear to god, Mark, if the car smells like squirrel pee I’m going to be so pissed at you.
M: Calm down, Curly. #1. You and I both know you don’t have any idea what squirrel pee smells like. #2. I’m about to fix this whole situation. #3. You’re acting squirrely.
K:
M: I made a squirrel joke.
K: I heard.
M: You’re supposed to laugh.
K: Just do me a favor. Don’t let the thing go by the dorms, okay? Just be as inconspicuous as you can be.
M: Roger that. I’ll be as inconspicuous as a guy in spandex can be carrying a squirrel jail.

I walked back into the meeting and my boss asked me if everything was okay. “Actually, no,” I said. “There’s a squirrel in my car.” This statement made a big thud in the room and everyone looked at me until my boss asked, “Why is there a squirrel in your car?”

“Because I am married to the Rain Man.”