Flying Squirrel of Death

OK, technically he didn't actually fly and he wasn't actually deadly, but it sure seemed that way at the time.

This goes back to the Great Squirrel Invasion of 2002 which I previously wrote about here. That fall it seemed as though we were under attack from squirrels at every waking moment; this particular incident involved a Noise in the fireplace. In our defense let me just say that we had no idea what was making all that noise, for all we knew it was a pterodactyl or two. But maybe it wasn't the best idea for us all to gather in front of the fireplace doors. "Us all" included:
Dave armed with a tennis racket.
Laura Jane armed with a tea towel, my preferred weapon for dealing with man-eating moths and baby birds.
Mick, the cat, armed with speed and cunning.
Fanny, the Bulldog, armed with eagerness and a fiercely wagging tail nub.
Otis, the Basset Hound, not actually armed with anything.
Sister, the late lamented sister to Mick, armed with superior hunting skills.
All of us just waiting like the gullible fools we were.

I opened the fireplace doors and screamed as something went for my throat. Dave screamed too, and I'm pretty sure he leaped. The squirrel, doing his best Bat out of Hell impression, flew over our heads. The rest of the members of our team took off after it.

Now the chase was on.

When I say "chase" you should picture a pack of very strange athletes racing around a track because that was what we had unwittingly allowed by not closing any doors in the house. The office to the living room to the hallway to the bedroom to the office. After one lap, Dave and I opted to drop out and calmly discuss the situation.
Dave: Should we close the doors?
Laura Jane: We don't want to trap him inside our bedroom.
Dave: (Shudders) No, that would bad.
Laura Jane: Let's open the front door. Maybe he will go outside.
The animals were totally oblivious to us, they were just putting in the miles. For a brief moment I considered putting on the Chariots of Fire soundtrack.

It didn't end happily. There was no carnage thankfully, but the squirrel opted to hide rather than go play outside. Unfortunately at that time the guest bedroom was perfect for hiding small creatures as it was completely given over to storage for Dave's sister's furniture. The piano in front blocked access to all human beings and dogs. The squirrel and cats were the only ones who could squeeze through. At some point the cats came out to demand their dinner. Squirrel meat was not the chosen bill of fare that night, they were asking for Fish Ahoy. At some point I am sure the great leaping squirrel of death found his way outside. Maybe he figured out how to use the dog door.