Wednesday, May 11, 2011

Squirrels ate our truck.

Just when I thought I'd seen it all--we do live in Jurassic Park, for Pete's sake--we discovered squirrels have been living in the underside of our truck and, evidently, snacking on the parts. We are used to deer, moles, voles, raccoons, and crows sustaining themselves and their loved ones on every living green and flowering plant in sight. And a couple of years ago a gang of muskrats chowed down on our lake trampoline, creating a hole large enough to sink the tramp into flaccid floating flotsam. But the truck?? Is nothing sacred? The folks at the Toyota dealership were puzzled. "You say squirrels ate the part?" Well, in a word, yes. Evidently, the curly-tailed, cute little rodents were not satisfied with digging up all my potted plants in a futile effort to find nuts they did not plant there. The grape vines they ate through just didn't do the trick. No. The allure of plastic and rubber fittings in the truck engine was irresistible. Funny thing was, we thought we smelled nuts roasting on the engine. Only, we thought WE were nuts. So, I wonder. What's next? Will alligators crawl up the rip-rap and devour the neighborhood dogs? Shall we build fences high enough to ward off the wooly mammoths? Can the raptors be far behind? Who says country living is boring??

1 comment:

H.C. Williams said...

It's retribution for the squirrel massacre in Oakton. I mean, it is Dad's truck, right? Coincidence? I think not.