The Squirrel Returns

And, the squirrel saga continues! The day after the murder (Tuesday), I took the dogs on a long walk and then went to the dog park. I was a bit frazzled when I arrived at the dog park. First, I had been walking them while talking on my phone to a friend whom I went to college with. Her wedding was supposed to be November 4th, but had to be rescheduled to October 29th. Well, I'm the Maid of Honor/only bridesmaid, and this created a major scheduling problem, as I'm a bridesmaid in my brother Teddy's wedding on the 29th. While chatting with her on the phone both dogs pooped... so I had to bend down to pick it up. So here I am, tottering (tottering because I had dislocated my hip hours earlier) down the W&OD trail, trying to hold the leashes of two extremely hyper dogs (hence why we were headed to the park!), my phone wedged against my ear talking about wedding stuff, and three bags of dog poop.

Of course, with terrible single-girl luck, this is the time when two hot cyclists peddle by, shirtless, with 6-pack abs, and golden tanned skin. At which point, I drop my poop bag dispenser... and then, the hotter of the two yells, "Cutest Goldens ever!" And I start blushing...

So fast forward a few hundred yards, we're in the dog park, I'm still discussing wedding logistics with the bride, and the last thing on my mind was the squirrel carcass looming somewhere in the shadows. My dogs immediatly find their prize from the previous outing, and I have no other option but to pick it up and throw it away.

This was no small squirrel, and it was now infested with maggots and covered in flags, far too big and gross to use a poop bag to pick it up with. I find two grocery bags and a very long stick (probably 4-feet or so). Set bag one on the ground. Get the stick under the squirrel, and lift it about a foot off the ground when, of course, it falls off the stick. Damn it. I find a second stick, wedge the first under the squirrel, use the other stick to hold the squirrel on, giant chopsticks, if you will, a look of disgust plastered on my face, while I try to put the squirrel in a bag. It doesn't work, I'm going to have to get closer. Eww.


I wiggle my hands down the stick so now the squirrel is about 18 inches from me. Try to get it in the bag, still can't, and give up and drop the squirrel on top of bag one. Next, I have to try to get the squirrel on a bag into another bag so i can throw it away.


I can only imagine what the other dog owners patronizing the park must have been thinking. Girl with a look of pure terror on her face, two golden retrievers running amok, a carcass on a stick, sweat dripping down my forehead, hair stuck to my face, a cell phone wedged between my shoulder and my ear... when a mosquito flies up my running skirt and bites me on the back of my thigh. I yelp in pain, drop the call, finish bagging the squirrel.



The whole thing was just too humorous not to photograph, but I wasn't about to take, nor post, a picture of a dead animal on my blog. So here is my hand, complete with boarding school class ring, carrying a dead squirrel to the trash can. Oh what a wonderful life...

There's a Monster in the Closet - A rant by Milly herself!

One of my two legged mommy’s friends has a blog. This lady is very nice. Her name is Tina, and sometimes on her blog she lets her friend Annie write entries. I asked mommy if I could write an entry, because there has been something on my mind lately.

There is a monster in the closet that mommy knows I am terrified of. This monster is named Vaccum, and it is VERY scary! I have a lot of trouble talking about Vacuum the monster, but I think I’ve found something even more frightening. I must vent.

Mommy has a bicycle, and she likes to ride it. Sometimes she rides it on a stand in the living room, and I think this is just great fun because I try to lick her feet as the whirl round-and-round. Mommy doesn’t think this is very fun, but I do. Well, Mommy has not been riding bicycle lately, but I’ve heard her talk about wanting to start riding again. So over the weekend Mommy and Bill decided to pump the tires on their bicycles.

HOLY GUACAMOLE! You think Vacuum monster is scary – look out! This thing called bicycle pump looks un-intimidating, kind of like a miniature coat rack, but then when the humans attach it to the bicycle it makes alien noises! I want to head for the hills when I see bicycle pump, and once I’ve heard it making its whirring noises as wind gushes into the tires I head for the basement door, only problem is I don’t know how to open it. Mommy gets up to comfort me with treats, and tries to coax me to come over to bicycle and I start to feel safe again, but not for long…

Just when I think the excitement is over the bicycle tire starts to leak air, and once again the pump alien comes out. I hear talk of tires, but I don’t want to hurt Mommy’s feelings, because she’s been talking about bicycling with me, and I really want to try that. Just then the alien pump starts making the noises! I race for Mommy’s bedroom and hide behind the bed… safety! Mommy walks up to me, treats in hand again, and tells me, “Be brave my little Princess Milly, just lay with me and I’ll rub your belly.” She moves her hands through my coat, and tells me how much she loves me, and calls me her pretty girl (which I know I am), and the distraction is comforting and takes my mind off of the potential alien invasion brewing in the living room. But then I hear it again! Alien invasion! Mommy can’t hear it (humans must have bad ears), but I hear it all the way down the hall, in the bedroom, lying behind the bed. Immediately I tense up, while lying down my tail goes between my legs, and I stand up nervously. I race out the bedroom door, whiz past the alien pump, and start poking my nose on the back door, but it won’t open. Mommy comes up and pats me on the head and says, “Come on Milly, this way, I’ll take you outside.” All I can think is you took long enough, and my ears are really hurting from the alien pump invasion noises.

I’m not mad at Mommy or Bill, but for all you doggies out there watch out for the alien bicycle pump, it is more terrifying than the monster that lives in the closet. I now know from now on wheeling the bicycle through the living room means GET OUT FAST, because an alien invasion is imminent!


Thanks for letting me vent, and I hope you enjoyed reading a post from me, Marvelous Milly!