Imagine coming home from a four-day weekend trip visiting family. You walk in the door, the heat from inside blasts you in the face since you had the temperature turned way up to save a few bucks. You go and turn the heat down. Despite the heat, it is good to be home after the eight hour car ride driving through torrential rain and playing word feud with your husband on your parents' high tech phones even though you felt car sick most of the time looking at the screen (how do they have high tech phones and we don't?). Oh and you are pregnant and had a hard time sitting in one spot with your huge abdomen for eight hours straight. Thankfully the car was air-conditioned. Okay, so you walk in, turn down the heat, plop your bags in the library as you walk to the kitchen for some water. There is bright blue and green glass shattered on the ground. Your glass fish you loved is now non recognizable. The cobalt blue, glass circle of a puffin with the words "Bar Harbor" printed on it is shattered in the sink (among the pile of dirty silverware that was left for you to clean when you return because you don't have a dishwasher and didn't want to wash them before you left). Everything is fallen from the window sills. The TV is still in its place in the living room, nothing is stolen from the house. Your only hypothesis is that there was a terrible storm that shook the windows so bad that everything fell (not to mention that the windows have outer storm windows and they are the sturdiest, built in the forties, not going anywhere windows). So naturally you get your husband to call your friend/neighbor because he grew up here and may have a more likely guess for what happened. And he does-rats. Not what you wanted to hear? You immediately pick your feet up into your chair (that will save you from the rats) as you hear that word repeatedly being exchanged over the line. So then you and your husband proceed to look for rat turds. Yes, rat turds on your kitchen counter. Thankfully you don't find any but disappointingly the mystery is unsolved and you aren't sure if you will be able to sleep tonight wondering what's lurking in your house.
You both cannot even talk to one another out of shear exhaustion from the car ride. You pop in a movie and sit down to eat dinner/veg in front of the TV. Eh, forty minutes goes by and you hear something to your left in the dining room. You look over and don't see a person in there and so the sound goes unmentioned between the two of you. Eh, another twenty minutes goes by and another distinct, clear, clanking sound from the dining room. You both look at each other as your husband pauses the movie. You stay right where you are, safe on the couch, tucking your legs under you. Armed with a flashlight, your husband sneakily walks into the dining room and within seconds you hear the words "I see his tail." What?! HIS TAIL?! Oh yeah, on the buffet table, behind the typewriter. A tail. At your husbands coaxing, you walk across the room to see the tail for yourself. He was right, it is a tail. Not skinny and hairless like a rat's but not huge and bushy like a squirrel's either. Kind of cute and smaller with a similar likeness to a squirrel's, yes cute. Okay, so it is time for action. You suggest that the flashlight may not be necessary as you do have an overhead light that would make it easier to see the thing. Your husband goes to get a T-shirt to use to catch it and the camera to capture this strange situation you both find yourself in while you close the door to the kitchen and the door from the living room to the hallway leaving the creature somewhat trapped in the dining room and living room. You wonder if it has rabies or poses any other harmful threat besides the one that he might get close to you or even touch you! You get the camera ready as you stand on a chair in the living room and your husband grabs a yard stick. Then begins the chase.
Off the buffet table, on the floor, around the table, in the corner, across the room (toward you), he turns around (your scream scares him back), around the table, under the buffet, in the living room (you move to a chair in the dining room and instruct your husband to open the door to the porch- you are really good at giving orders right now), around the TV, in the fireplace (maybe showing us how he got in?), under the chair, behind the couch, ON the couch, soaring across the room from the arm of the couch to the TV (did he just fly?!), back under the couch where he stays for a while. After many failed dives from your husband with the red T-shirt/net and after many little turds have been dropped your husband picks up the yard stick again and you are wondering if he is going to try to kill it with that! Instead, with frustration he throws off all the couch cushions explaining that the squirrel may be IN the pull-out couch and uses the yard stick to prod and poke around in the couch. Then, there he is, on the back of the couch, he runs across the back cushions the entire length of the couch dodging your husbands grabs and gives an impressive leap off the arm of the chair as his arm flaps/wings open and he lands on the porch! Your husband screams "No way! A flying squirrel!" You order your husband to "close the door, close the door" (duh). And he proceeds to go on the porch while you remain safe behind the glass panes, among the disaster you have of a living room. After a few soars on the part of the squirrel and a leap to your husband's arm and off again, the little guy is caught with the red T-shirt by his hind leg and your husband holds him close to the window for you to see before he takes him outside to throw him in the yard! Your home is once again free from creepy/cute animal invaders and you can now finish what is left of a really sad ending of a movie (even after all that happened it is still easy to get sucked back into the film and sob like a baby) and then you go to sleep in peace. The end.
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