Bargaining With the Squirrel on My Front Porch

One of my roommates carved a pumpkin at her staff meeting last night. It had flowers and some hearts, and even an (electric) candle flickering from the inside. A proper jack-o-lantern, really. After a rough week for all of us, its soft glow on the porch brightened all our spirits.

That is, until a rogue squirrel decided that it would look better in his stomach.

It was 9:54 A.M. My next class started in six minutes, and I hadn’t even left the apartment yet. For context, I’m usually at least five minutes early to all of my classes. I opened the door in a rush and came face-to-face with the culprit — well, face-to-boot.

This little bastard, with a hearty chunk of pumpkin clutched in his thieving fist, didn’t even look sorry as he glared up at me. The heart of the carving had been ripped out and tossed farther down the porch. Somehow, the squirrel had even pulled out the electric candle and thrown it away from the pumpkin. In the midst of the destruction he caused, he also had the audacity to be perfectly in my way.

I stomped my foot, attempting to scare the squirrel away. Not even an inch of movement. Next, I tried yelling. Nothing. More stomping, yelling, and even some growling. He jumped back a few inches, but stayed solidly in my way.

My other roommate (not the one who carved the pumpkin) watched from her spot in the living room.

“Do you want me…to help?” She asked, poking her head outside the door to get a full view of the face-off between me and that stupid squirrel. By this point, I had passed the threshold and made it outside, onto the porch (but no farther).

“No, I’ve got it,” I mumbled.

I’d never kicked a squirrel before, but, well…it seemed like a pretty good time to start.

“Listen, buddy, I suggest you move, or things are about to get really bad for you,” I said to the squirrel. He stayed motionless, except for his eyes, which darted haphazardly between me and his pumpkin. I marched up to him, and my foot was already swinging forward before he realized that it was probably time to make a hasty exit.

Though the pumpkin has no hope of recovery, I am fairly glad that the squirrel decided to move before I punted him across the sidewalk (though I imagine it would have been really satisfying at the time). I probably would have felt horrible about it later.

Despite all this, I still managed to make it to class on time (as long as we’re defining “on time” as arriving before your professor does).