The only comment I’m making on my absence is this actual sentence. Suck it up.
So the last few weeks have been funny, both in the “ha ha” and peculiar sort of way. After three years, my second generation Kindle finally got to the point of misbehaving more often than not, so I went for an upgrade in the form of a Kindle Touch, which is actually very cool. Three years was more than I was actually thinking I’d get out of the original, so it’s all good. What was really kind of funny was that the 3G on my prior Kindle just made the whole device apoplectic — the day the new Kindles started shipping. I stuck it out another week or so, just because… well, I was thinking maybe it was a temporary flake out.
Also, we had a squirrel explosion this summer. We have squirrels as far as the eye can see on our street. They have actually managed to bang on our storm doors and make it sound like there’s someone out there, and when you peek out the window, there are a couple of squirrels squirrel-fu fighting on the porch. There are so many, they are all stressed out and plucking each other.
Because it’s been unseasonably warm (then cold, then warm, then cold, and it is pissing me off) they had litters late into the year. There are still a million of them. But some are starting to really look bad.
I noticed one that tended to keep his head tilted down except when he was moving. Obviously, something was kind of wrong. I noticed him on Sunday. He was a littler one, but looked like his “stress plucking” was growing back in. Yesterday, I took Penny out for a walk, and this one came tearing around the corner and kept barrelling towards us. A fraction of a second more, I was going to grab Penny and run, as he was less than a foot away.
Then he saw us. He veered to the side. A teeny bit. And stopped. And stared. And stared. He looked scared to death (but not like he was out of his mind aggressive like our rabid chipmunk). He looked like he didn’t know what to do except be scared.
Since Penny only noticed him as he moved, and now he was being still, I got her to start walking away from him. He still stared at me. Then he pooped. Then his heart stopped.
I didn’t think my hair was that bad. God.
I was hoping it really wasn’t the case, so I took Penny down the street, and noticed he was still in our driveway when I walked past, so I took her the other way, and when we came back, he was still there. It had been about four minutes, maybe. I scooped Penny up and walked up the driveway (I didn’t want her near him, dead or half dead or alive.)
I peeked at him, and there was a lovely parasite load streaming off… mite sort of things, I guess. It was sad, and plus, I had to figure out where the hell the shovels were (I ended up using our snow shovels) to get rid of him… So I trudged in feeling mildly weirded out that I caused cardiac arrest by merely looking at a rodent and kinda crawly that I was going to have to move the poor sucker.
Our bird feeder is supposed to be squirrel proof, but it isn’t, of course. And we have a water garden, so we have some significant squirrel traffic. And there are fifty million squirrels out there. They were waiting for me, evidently, to bring Penny in so they could get a drink and squirrel fu fight at the bird feeder.
But there’s this body, here, that kinda smells like a squirrel, only now a little tiny bit cooler and gamier, I guess. So I can understand, where there is competition, a squirrel might take a nip at a recently deceased squirrel to see if this someone he needs to squirrel fu fight with for food. I can understand it, and if one did it, or two did it at two separate times, it wouldn’t have been disconcerting to me.
When five of the little bastards descend on the obviously weak one (though not so obviously dead, I guess) and give him a test nip so that his not yet rigor mortis set body is jiggling with their poking, it really kind of evokes a response like you’re watching George Romero’s Late Morning of the Living Dead Squirrel. Ew.
In other news, I got a card (or two) in the mail. From my ENT. Three months later, they have set up an appointment with the speech pathologist. Now, we cancelled our land line phone two weeks ago. They have my cell on file (but I mean, why look?) So in the last two weeks, they made the appointments (I see the speech pathologist, then the ENT. I don’t know why I see the ENT. I’m sure she’ll be in a massive rush, though) and just mailed the appointment cards.
I guess at least they didn’t forget about me… But my god.