Welcome to the Spot Writers. The prompt for this month is to write a story including the words bird, roof, egg, war, and hay
Today’s contribution comes from RC Bonitz, author of A BLANKET FOR HER HEART. His latest book, DANGEROUS DECISIONS, has just been accepted for publication by REBEL INK PRESS.
It started with the bird feeder. I loved to watch the nuthatches and finches cluster at the feeder, their wings flapping as they sought their chance to grab a bit of seed. Then the squirrels came, walking like acrobats on the tiny strand of wire that supported the feeder, scaring off my feathered friends.
I could fix that. I went out and bought a squirrel proof feeder at my local hardware store. Excited, I brought it home, filled it, hung it up, and hurried into my house, anxious to observe the success of my endeavor. A squirrel hung from the roof of the feeder stuffing himself with seed by the time he reached the window… Bloody hell.
I considered smearing egg or grease on that skinny wire, but that would have to be replaced quite often. I gave some thought to trapping and killing the squirrels, but was not that desperate. Yet.
Next I discovered my furry friends were pulling hay from my son’s bow and arrow target behind the garage. Why I could not fathom, but that’s what they were doing. That had an easy fix. I put the target in the garage. No squirrel could get in there as long as I kept the door closed.
Did I say door closed? How about the damper on my fireplace? We left that open one weekend when we went away. A harmless mental lapse no doubt, right? Wrong. A squirrel fell down the chimney and got into the house. He wanted out, oh yeah, did he ever.
We came home to find our visitor had chewed up vast chunks of the wood frame on every window in the house in his struggle to escape. Wonderful. The estimated cost for replacement windows and adjustments to the siding came to $15,000. And guess what our insurance company told us? Squirrels are rodents and insurance companies do not pay for damage that they cause. We had to shell out all those bucks ourselves. GRRR.
That was it, I’d had it. I set a trap and caught my first squirrel toot sweet. All I had to do was drown the blasted thing and catch another. Simple. No problem. Piece of cake, right? Except it might be a mother with little ones to feed. But I hated squirrels. Didn’t I? But…it was a living thing, just trying to survive. I could have driven it to someone else’s neighborhood and dumped it off there. Right, sic it on some poor unsuspecting soul I didn’t even know. I set it free.
The Spot Writers- our members.
Catherine A. MacKenzie
Deborah Marie Dera