Squirrel-gate is officially done.Last night when I got home from the club, the little guy was once again in the middle of my living room floor. It's just this time he was curled up in a little ball, not doing so well. I got a shoebox, lined it with an old sweater, and put him in there.
Thankfully my son was is spending the weekend with his mother and didn't have to see any of it, but that didn't make me feel like any less of a Christmastime jerk.By morning it was over.
I mean, what had to be done was done -- he'd been showing up and leaving behind little calling cards for almost two months now with little or no signs that he ever was going to go away or stop -- but it still kinda sucked to find him there like that.
All that being said, now that I look back on this whole bizarre episode, it's pretty clear that even though my place at the top of this particular food chain has finally been re-established --
..Little fucker still got the last laugh, didn't he?
[Listening to: Bullet for My Valentine - "4 Words (To Choke Upon)" ]