Hey Rocky, watch me pull a …

Several years ago on a late October morning, I woke up around 5 AM with a scratching sound on my second story bedroom screen (the window was open) … so I looked up 99% asleep and saw an animal of some type hanging on the outside of the screen.

So I mumbled something akin to “getthehelloffthescreen” and he jumped off.

Except I could still see him.

Now unless gravity temporarily stopped, he should have fallen two stories to the ground … which could only mean one thing —

… THAT FUCKER WAS ON THE INSIDE OF THE SCREEN …

And there it was … a squirrel, sitting on the little windowsill three feet from me.

So I slowly got out of bed (on the side opposite of my new rabies partner) and walked over and closed the bedroom door because if that bastard ran out my bedroom, I was never going to find him leaving me no alternative but to burn the house down and move to Europe.

I stood there looking at the dumbass wondering how (or why) he got inside the house.  So I walked over to the window and he jumped and ran under my bed.  I then took the screen out of the window and encouraged him to jump out of the open window.

Apparently the little shit didn’t know English and he stayed under the bed.  I got my Don Mattingly Adirondack baseball bat and whacked it under the bed a couple times and he ran into my walk-in closet.  I took an empty laundry basket and turned it upside down and over the little bastard creating a make-shift prison.

Done!!

Caught you, you little slamhound.

At which point, the squirrel casually walked out through the laundry basket handles (which had a gap) and looked at me as if I was dumbest fucker on the planet.

I was somewhat out of ideas and I didn’t want to hurt him so I picked up the laundry basket and tried to scoop him into it.  It didn’t work as he took off back into the bedroom and jumped back up on the windowsill (in front of the open window with the screen removed).

I said “Jump out you cocksucker” … but all he did was walk along the windowsill and stop in front of a closed window (you dumb fuck).

So I made a mad dash at him and he jumped off the windowsill at which point I threw the laundry basket at him and … this is no shit … he jumped into the laundry basket in mid-air.

I picked up the basket and looked inside and I’ll be damn, he was sitting at the bottom of it.  So I made a beeline to the open window and when I slung him out of the basket, he spread his feet/wings and looked like a twin-engine Piper as he flew all the way back into the trees.

A flying squirrel.

I dropped the basket, shut the window and went back to bed.

He never came back or thanked me for not hitting him with the baseball bat.