The Tie

For years, the squirrels and I have been engaged in a competition of sorts.  The squirrels want nothing more than to take over my backyard.  My goal is to thwart their plans whenever possible.  Most times, I am triumphant; over the years I have managed to successfully shoo squirrels up nearby trees, chase them up and down the fence, and frighten them out of nearby yards with my bark (one can never be too careful when dealing with obnoxious little interlopers with big, bushy tails).  Sometimes, however--and I'm kind of embarrassed to say this--the squirrels win.

What follows are two Rigby v. Squirrel events which happened over this past week.  The first involves me besting a squirrel.  The second involves me...well...not besting a squirrel.

Story #1:

On Wednesday, I was sniffing around in the backyard, minding my own business, when all of a sudden I noticed a squirrel standing by the cherry tree.  In its mouth was a large, half eaten peach.  Now, as I've blogged about in the past, when it comes to peaches, the squirrels and I have a bit of an understanding: they steal peaches from the tree next door, they eat their fill of the peach, they drop the leftovers into my yard from the big oak tree, and I either eat the fruit myself or trade it in for a cookie from Ma.  Notice how I said "they drop the leftovers into my yard from the big oak tree."  I did not say that they were allowed to actually eat the peach while sitting in my yard.

Given the situation, I did the only thing a self respecting, devilishly handsome, pup could do:  I took off after the squirrel.

The squirrel quickly retreated up the cherry tree, but in his haste, he dropped the peach.  I gave two warning barks up the tree at him, then quickly scooped up the abandoned peach and, because Sister didn't have anything to trade for it, ate it.  It was delicious.

Armrest?  No.  Chinrest?  Yes!

Rigby 1...Squirrel 0.

Completely satisfied by my triumph, I followed Sister back into the house and took a nap on the couch (what can I say, I'm a rebel!).

But the triumph I felt was short lived.  The next day, Thursday, the squirrel population got back at me.

Story #2

I was hanging outside with Sister in the backyard when all of a sudden I caught a whiff of something on the air; a strong smell wafting from just around the corner of the house.  Curious, I got up from my nice sunny spot at Sister's feet (I love soaking up the sun and, because Sister occasionally brings food outside with her, it's always prudent to stay close to her in order to catch any crumbs she might drop) and made my way around the corner to investigate.

At first I noticed nothing out of the ordinary.  From where I stood I could see the front gate, the side door, the flowers where the lizards hide, and Pa's barbecue grill--nothing special.  But then I got a good whiff of the scent and realized that it was a squirrel and that the squirrel was hiding under Pa's grill.

I charged the grill and started circling it (which was quite difficult at first because the grill was butted up against the side of the house and it required some brute strength on my part to move it with my head).  Every once in a while I stopped circling, stuffed my snout between the grill and the cement driveway, and stretched my paw up and under the grill in an attempt to grab hold of the furry little squirrel.  Each time, however, I failed.

It was the scratching of my nails on the driveway coupled with the snuffling noises that alerted Sister that I was either in trouble or up to no good (she has such little faith in me).  She cautiously rounded the corner just as the squirrel, unbeknownst to me, shot out from under the grill, scurried through the backyard, and reached the safety of the big oak tree.

Sister tried to explain to me that the squirrel was gone, that it had run away, but I was too preoccupied by the lingering smell to notice.

Rigby 1...Squirrel 1.