Squirrel in da House

Teri and I and 2 friends met up with members of my family to go to the Bruins game at the TD Bank North Garden (aka The Boston Garden) on Saturday night. We met at O'Rielly's pub on Canal Street ate dinner and then went to the game.

I had a great time laughing with my sister Mary - something we don't do enough of - because we don't see each other that much.

I also had a great time because the Bruins won (6-3) agains the Pittsburgh Penguins. It was a great game with not 1, not 2, but 3 fights on the ice! We stayed out for a little bit after the game and then took the T back to our hotel right next to the Riverside T station.

But the story starts when we got home on Sunday morning.

We arrive in the driveway of our house and see that the curtains in the living room are down. We immediately blame Kendal, our shephard mutt. She has a tendency to jump up on the furniture when we aren't home to look out the window. We thought she had done just that, but pulled down the curtains/plants in the process.

We no sooner clean it up and Teri opens the door to the basement to go do some Fantasy Football stuff and he sees a bottle of soda at the bottom of the stairs. He looks at the ledge where we keep the soda and notices a rodent the size of New Mexico in the spot where the soda bottle should be.

"Holy Sh*t, there is a squirrel in the house." Teri says.

"Let me see," I say.

Sho' 'nuf there was.

Check it out. The poor thing was terrified. My guess is that the dogs terrorized him the whole night. So he found a 'safe corner' to wedge himself into and stayed there. Thanks to the neighbors for taking the digital pics cuz our camera was in the basement and we weren't going past him in case he freaked out.

I went next door to see if the Firefighter who lives there has any ideas. Teri called his dad to see what experience he had to share.

We thought about trying to get it into a blanket or a laundry basket to bring outside. We thought of putting the dogs outside and leaving the doors open to see if he might leave on his own. But what we ended up doing is calling in the reinforcements...ELMER FUDD, Dirty Harry or any other known gunman.

Teri's dad comes over with a pellet gun and puts the poor thing out of its misery...our hero! He also buried it in the woods for us.

Now every time I drive by a squirrel, I think they are waving their fists at me because I caused harm to one of their kind. We'll see if a squirrel uprising happens in our neighborhood. If it does, I'm running for the hills!