Since I've worked two doubles and a regular shift over the last three days {Monday was swing and grave, Tuesday the same, and today just swing} my sleeping patterns are a wee bit messed up. Here it is 2 am and I can't sleep. When I can't sleep I do one of several things. Get up and walk around, write in my journal, scour Pinterest for crap I don't need, Facebook stalk, or cry. I'm one of those weird people that cry when they're so ridiculously tired they could drop dead but can't sleep regardless. Anyway. Tonight I decided to go outside.
Today was one of those perfect days where it's warm and sunny and beautiful and breezy. Naturally night would be just as beautiful, I assumed. I assumed correctly! I went into my grandparents fabulous backyard {at 2 am, mind you. the time of night when scary bad guys and monsters come out} and stood in the grass happy to be alive {not necessarily happy to be awake though}. As I was reflecting on how the moonlight makes the world legitimately look like a black and white film {has anyone else ever thought about that?!}, I heard a noise. It sounded like a pile of pots and pans had fallen out of a tree and onto a metal cage.. or something. It scared the crap out of me, needless to say {see above remark on scariness at 2 am}, and I jumped really high. Since it was dark {duh} I couldn't really see where the sound was coming from exactly but knew that the other side of the patio held the culprit.
Just then I remember Grandpa's cage. He has this squirrel problem in his beautiful backyard. There's like five living in this one tree and eating all of his stuff. Or something like that. So he set out a cage to catch them and then humanely release them into a forest outside town. Thus far, I hadn't heard of his cage being successful. Well. Tonight it was. And this squirrel was pissed. Once I realized the terrified sound coming from the other side of the patio was just a squirrel in a cage, I turned on the porch light. The light triggered something inside that little squirrel and it went nuts. It was hissing, hissing, at me! Along with running in circles in the cage and slamming itself repeatedly into the walls! I realize that squirrels in cages aren't dangerous. They're in cages. But when it's 2 am, murderers' favorite time, you're tired, it's dark-ish, and a rabid-acting squirrel is trying to attack you through its wire prison, I don't care who you are, you're gonna be scared. I was probably more scared than most, leaping up the steps into the house and ferociously sliding the door shut, but still, I was fairly brave. I didn't even scream. :)
This morning I went out to check on the squirrel {in broad daylight} and what did I see?
Grandpa shot the squirrel.
He lied to me.
