Sunday, November 23, 2003
THIS BLOG SAVES LIVES
The Warrior Monk, despite his moniker, is a pretty mild mannered guy (and frighteningly well-read too). Like all generalized statements though, there are glaring exceptions to this assessment and they are:
1. Driving
2. Squirrels
Number 1 is of no note; it seems nearly every American male is, at best, cranky behind the wheel. But number 2?
I don't pay much attention to squirrels myself. I remember my Italian cousins being fascinated by their antics when they visited my family (don't they have squirrels in Italy? I forgot to look into this when I visited...). Although I didn't appreciate the way my dog would go postal at the site of one, yanking me sideways and then disappearing into the park, despite choke collar, I felt that was really the dog's fault and did not hold the squirrels accountable. I have a hard time demonizing anything furry with big eyes. And I have it on good authority that their antics are motivated entirely by nuts:
Seems pretty harmless to me.
But not to The Warrior Monk. Last fall, The Warrior Monk operated on the principle that squirrels are planning for world domination and only he could stop them. It all started when some squirrels chewed through the soffit on the Monk's home and set up house on his back porch. His response: Squirrel Armageddon. Their act of trespass set off some long-dormant anti-squirrel pathway in his brain. He got a trap and spent untold hours experimenting with bait (I believe he concluded that peanut butter worked best). While talking with him, you might notice that his attention seemed to have wandered. Then he would suddenly dart out the front door and slowly creep around to the back of the house to check the trap. He spent hours staring out his back window at the squirrels who would nose around inside the trap tantalizinngly ... then they would take off with the bait. Yes, squirrels were a real Warrior Monk obsession.
Trying to be a good supportive coblogger, this fall I looked into the squirrel issue further and discovered that they aren't quite the harmless furballs I thought them. Turns out they may add $10 million to the cost of building a road in Washington State, knock out power and shut down the Internet and even have been known to attack drivers.
I was shocked--and ready to join the Monk Crusade. But this fall I find the squirrels have been allowed to multiply unmolested. What's changed? Papa's got a brand new blog.
1. Driving
2. Squirrels
Number 1 is of no note; it seems nearly every American male is, at best, cranky behind the wheel. But number 2?
I don't pay much attention to squirrels myself. I remember my Italian cousins being fascinated by their antics when they visited my family (don't they have squirrels in Italy? I forgot to look into this when I visited...). Although I didn't appreciate the way my dog would go postal at the site of one, yanking me sideways and then disappearing into the park, despite choke collar, I felt that was really the dog's fault and did not hold the squirrels accountable. I have a hard time demonizing anything furry with big eyes. And I have it on good authority that their antics are motivated entirely by nuts:
-Danny The Squirrel"Do you want to make good with me? Then you'd better bust out the nuts. That's the way to this squirrel's heart. Don't worry. You won't offend me if you assume that I eat nuts, because it's true. I do. So do all of my squirrel friends."
Seems pretty harmless to me.
But not to The Warrior Monk. Last fall, The Warrior Monk operated on the principle that squirrels are planning for world domination and only he could stop them. It all started when some squirrels chewed through the soffit on the Monk's home and set up house on his back porch. His response: Squirrel Armageddon. Their act of trespass set off some long-dormant anti-squirrel pathway in his brain. He got a trap and spent untold hours experimenting with bait (I believe he concluded that peanut butter worked best). While talking with him, you might notice that his attention seemed to have wandered. Then he would suddenly dart out the front door and slowly creep around to the back of the house to check the trap. He spent hours staring out his back window at the squirrels who would nose around inside the trap tantalizinngly ... then they would take off with the bait. Yes, squirrels were a real Warrior Monk obsession.
Trying to be a good supportive coblogger, this fall I looked into the squirrel issue further and discovered that they aren't quite the harmless furballs I thought them. Turns out they may add $10 million to the cost of building a road in Washington State, knock out power and shut down the Internet and even have been known to attack drivers.
I was shocked--and ready to join the Monk Crusade. But this fall I find the squirrels have been allowed to multiply unmolested. What's changed? Papa's got a brand new blog.
