Timothy Birdnow

Just thought I'd share a Christmas memory.

I remember the year of the Christmas squirrel.

My parents always had a real Christmas tree. My mother was particular about that; no fake, phony plastic monstrosity would do; she always insisted on a real tree.

So my dad and usually me would dutifully trot out every year to a tree lot and purchase the best tree that could be had for the very paltry sum my father was willing to pay. Often they would be acceptable if you kept the huge bald spot turned toward the wall and added a LOT of garland and ornaments.

And tree trimming time was always a nightmare. My dad hated it. He'd get out the tangled lights and ornaments and whatnot and grumble through the whole process. I remember one year he got the whole tree up and then the lights wouldn't light. He exploded and tossed some strand of twinkling strangler's cord, using language wholly inappropriate for so blessed and holy a season.

I noticed our cat batting at something on the bottom of the tree; a pull chain. I calmly said "well dad, you first have to turn the tree on" and pulled the chain. Voila! The cat had turned off Christmas.

(That cat was a menace. I was home alone once when in my early teens and the movie The Exorcist was on. I went to bed and awoke to my bed shaking and an unearthly moaning. I was out the door in less then a second, let me tell you! Turns out the cat had torn a hole in my box spring and climbed in - and gotten stuck. The shaking was her thrashing about, and the moan was her cries of pain muffled by the thickness of the mattress. Almost gave me a heart attack.)

At any rate, the year of the squirrel saw the Christmas tree sit outside for several days before being put up. Dad left it in the back yard because the house wasn't yet ready when he bought it.

So in came the tree and up it went. We decorated it and had it all ready.

My nephew Max was just a little squirt at the time and he was over. He noticed the tree was shaking and a noise coming from it. Out popped a squirrel! I suppose it had nested there; but it had been quiet as can be while we were putting the tree up.

What followed was a mad scramble as we tried to evict the squatter tenant from our Christmas tree and our home.

No luck. The squirrel, after leading us a merry chase, bolted out of the family room and into the sole bathroom. We locked it in.

And called animal control. They sent out a man who prepared to capture the poor frightened creature.

I was reminded of a Medieval knight preparing for battle; the animal control guy donned big thick gloves, vest, and goggles. He then told us solemnly "no matter what you hear do not open that door". It was reminiscent of Young Frankenstein, where Gene Wilder tells his staff to keep him locked up with the monster.

What followed was 20 minutes of thumping and crashing and angry sounds. I didn't know squirrels could be so ferocious! I think that little beast was half badger.

Eventually the man, now looking quite weary as though he had fought in a major military engagement, emerged with the squirrel in a trap.

The next year we gave my mother a special ornament for the tree - a squirrel.

My little nephew never forgot that Christmas. He's a man now but he still brings it up when we get together.

Anyway, a very Merry and Blessed Christmas to everyone! Don't let the squirrels eat your figgy pudding!

Postscript:

I once had a squirrel at the Ozark Hilton give me fits. For a couple of years I didn't have a roof on the cabin - just some tarps. One winters eve I was there in the pouring rain and the roof started leaking something terrible. A squirrel had torn a hole in the roof to get in and another to get into the cabin, and had nested between the two tarps. The rain was filling up the gap between the two and the whole thing was draining out into the cabin and onto my pointy littlle noggin. And even the squirrel's nest of leaves and twigs was soaking up water. I pushed a broom handle up to try to get the water to drain, and did what I could to buttress the spot. The squirrel came out into the cabin and was really cheesed. I remember it looking right at me and shaking it's fist with an angry growl, then going off into the night. If it had been a human it would have called me an M-F or whatnot. I spent a miserable night trying to stem the flood into the cabin. You can bet I made roofing that thing top priority after that! I imagine the squirrel didn't enjoy the night any more than I did, though.

Posted by: Timothy Birdnow at 02:44 PM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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