Monday, 14 December 2009

Monday 14 December 2009

I am totally barkless.  Completely and utterly barkless.  Barkless is what I am.

When my partner and I awoke yesterday morning, we descended the stairs and - wishing to greet the fresh morning - I stood by as my partner opened the curtains to our French Windows - and THIS is what we saw through the glass:

WHAT THE --   !?!?

Yes.  'Tis Peaches.  The violent, furry turd from the devil's own satanic a*se, staking out MY bird table, on MY patio, in MY garden.  I was livid.

My partner and I crept around to the front door (on the other side of the house), and she quietly released me.
"AAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRGGGGH!"  I yelled, as I launched myself with insane rage at the evil moggy.  The desired look of stricken alarm on Peaches' foul fat face was achieved although, unfortunately, he was not sufficiently concerned to quit my garden.  Instead, he composed himself and rounded on me, with a look of evil about him.

Oh poo.

I edged nervously towards the French Windows, realising just a split-second too late that they were locked.  I let out a little squeak, as Peaches moved around to the side of the garden, cutting off my escape route.
"I'm gonna cut you, you b*st*rd dog..." he growled menacingly.  I gulped, and braced myself for extreme pain.

All of a sudden - seemingly almost from nowhere - a small shape flew down from the nearest tree, shrieking as he plummeted towards the ground:

It was the little squirrel.  Still yelling like a wild banshee, he landed on the back of Peaches' neck, and clamped one paw on each of the wretched cat's ears, digging in his claws and hanging on for dear life as Peaches ran madly around my garden, yowling and trying to shake him off.  "Whe-heee!" squealed the squirrel, who then leaned forward and sank his sharp little teeth into Peaches' right ear.  Peaches gave a loud holler and another sudden violent shake.  The squirrel lost his grip and flew off his enraged steed, landing with a sickening thud on the patio.

I watched Peaches, still wailing and shouting, speed off home and then, when I was certain he'd gone, turned nervously to look at the little squirrel.  He lay almost motionless on his back, his chest rising and falling almost imperceptibly, and was making an horrific wheezing and gurgling sound.

Wondering if I would be able to save him with some rudimentary snout-to-snout resuscitation, I tipclawed nearer to the prone little body.

It then became immediately apparent that he was not struggling to live but was, in fact, helpless with laughter.
"Did you see-?" gasped the squirrel, still convulsed with uncontrollable laughter, "Did you see that idiot's face?!"  He wiggled his arms and legs as he laughed, and I allowed him to grip onto one of my paws as he struggled up into a sitting position.  I hid my face so that he wouldn't see how profoundly relieved I was.

"Nut power...?" I said, with one eyebrow quizzically raised.
"Haha, yeah." replied the squirrel.  "I thought I could be like a super-squirrel.  That could be my secret phrase.  Like, my battle cry."
"Nut power?"
"Well. Yeah, it is a BIT rubbish, isn't it?" grinned the little rodent.  "Needs more work.  But that was brilliant, eh?!"
"It was pretty funny." I conceded. "But you want to be careful with that one.  He's a total psychopath.  He'll be looking out for you now."
"Good." said the squirrel defiantly. "Let him.  I'll be up the trees and long gone before he even works out what's going on."

I had to admit - I admired the squirrel's pluck.  I asked him how he was settling in.  He certainly looked a bit healthier than he did at our first meeting.  He was still undersized, but had begun to fill out a little.  "Oh, I'm grand, thanks to you Mister Dog." answered the squirrel.  "Now I'm feeling a bit stronger, I've been out and about collecting moss to line my drey with.  Brilliant."

I grinned as I bade farewell to my new little friend.  I certainly did enjoy seeing him get the better of the much-despised Peaches, and I felt good inside for having helped him to survive and build his new home.  Some of my friends were kind enough to send me messages approving my actions, and that made me feel very happy as well.

However - one friend suggested that I may have befriended the squirrel, only for him to turn out to have evil intentions concerning me and would ultimately hoodwink me into risking my life and/or becoming embroiled in heinous mischief.  Now - I ask you.  WHAT is there in my past history to suggest that?!  I cannot believe it.  That would NEVER happen to such a worldly dog as me.  For goodness' sake...

Next time - the long overdue Part Two of "The Evolution of Jasper" (Here's a link to Part One, in case it is of interest:

Good night.
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