So, winter has finally decided to show up.  And so have the intrepid daylily foragers who stalk our gardens at dawn, or in this case mid-morning.  While he may seem to be a charming beast, it was obvious he had murderous intent when he returned in the evening with a party of five to graze in the beds not yet planted with  a protective lavender fence.  Curse you, Bambi.

Of course the real villain of the forest (as we all know) is the killer squirrel. In our case, it was the dastardly Mr. (or was it Ms.) Squiggles who descended my neighbor's chimney around 6 o'clock Monday afternoon. Obviously the criteria was to seek out the home in the neighborhood which had the most porcelain on display in the most precarious placement possible. ie, The mantel.

The call came in to the dispatch center, (the kitchen), around 6.  Mrs. X is one of the most accomplished women I know, but she quickly realized that she was in over her head when Squiggy declined her invitation to exit immediately, choosing instead to sprint from the top of the drapery in the living room to the top of the drapery in the dining room in a training exercise for the upcoming Squirrel Olympics to be held this year in Frostbite Falls.

Who you gonna call?  No really, who you gonna call?

The police were tied up and unable to respond until someone could cover for him, so the only option: fearless squirrel whispering neighbor.

The hubs and I arrived with our special squirrel wrangling equipment: a pair of gloves used for raking leaves and a red polar tech blanket from our son's youth. Red is after all the preferred color of squirrels and bulls everywhere.  Or is that the most despised color?  No matter. The intent was to remove the beast, not make him comfortable enough to put down roots.

Squiggy was perched behind a swag in the living room. Not exactly a living room as a beautifully maintained mine field of crystal and porcelain.

Step1:  Remove to safety critical breakables so that we don't end up with the ballroom scene from Ghostbusters.

Step 2:  Verify the difficulty of opening a window.

Step 3:  Try reasoning with the furry rodent while the hubs points out the idiocy of said activity.  

Step 4: Set up large umbrella at foot of staircase and open door.

Step 5: Flush the creature and attempt to herd him out the only available egress now available to him.

Step 6: Shout at the newly arrived man in blue to stop blocking the only exit for the furry hostage.

Step 7:  Watch Squiggy assume a Supersquirrel pose and launch himself into freedom, never pausing to look back in his flight.

Upon reflection, it was a fun little bit of cabaret at the hour of the evening meal.  And it could have been worse.

It could have been the deer.