Pest Control

One of my least favorite things about living by myself is that I'm suddenly on my own to deal with whatever scary or uncomfortable situations cross my path. Bump in the night? Where I would normally feel secure with the knowledge that another warm body was in the house with me, I'm now terrified that scary men have come to burgle and molest me. Hiding under the covers is a must. Bugs in the bathroom? I bravely put on my exterminator hat, lest I be resigned to the fact that me and spidy will be roomies until one of us decides to move elsewhere. Thus, imagine my terror and regret yesterday, as I was left alone to battle the unknown animal that had decided to inhabit my garbage can.

Trash day is on Thursday in my neighborhood. Normally, I'm too lazy to get my trash out to the curb every week, and have begun a 3 week rotation. Needless to say, my trash piles up in the bin and soon its all I can do to squeeze the lid on top. As I went to pick up the can yesterday to drag it to the front of the house there was suddenly a thrashing about in the top bag. So much so that I immediately ended up on the other side of the yard not really knowing how my body was able to move that fast, and feeling as if my heart would pop out of my chest at any given moment. Not knowing what to do, I did what any scared individual would do- I phoned a friend. Why I thought that all of my problems would suddenly be solved by the voice over the other end of the phone is beyond me. Obviously, I wasn't thinking clearly at this point.

Anyway, to continue, I am now standing in the back yard, on the phone with said friend (who was much calmer than I expected), pondering what in the world to do with whatever is in the garbage bag that is writhing around in the top of the can. Do I untie the top and risk getting a rabid animal in the face as it makes its escape? Do I let it make its own way out and reside in the safety of my home; knowing that if I miss trash day again I may soon require my own trash compactor just to fit everything in my sad little can? Or, do I ignore the problem, drag the can to the curb and let the bugger meet its maker (serves him right for getting himself into this position in the first place!)?

I finally decided to tip the can over, risking littering the lawn with my trash from the last 3 weeks, and try to help whatever it was get out the way it got in. I bravely tipped the can over, ran 20 feet away, then slowly approached with a shovel in hand. I manged to turn the bag over and low and behold- a hole!! Before I could celebrate this small victory, a tiny black squirrel suddenly poked its head out of the hole as if to say "Wassup world! Thanks for letting me out of there! Man, I'm stuffed!" and promptly scurried up a tree. Problem solved.

I felt a little foolish after it was all over. All of that strife over a squirrel. But, I shit you not, a squirrel in a garbage bag makes a sound so large, that for all I knew (in my heightened panicked state), it could have been a bear.

Note to self: switch to decaf.