It's hard, really hard, being so famous that crazed fans follow you around, never giving you a moment's privacy. There are days when I can't stand it, when I feel like giving it all up, unable to bear the sight of their eyes peering through the windows of my house.
But it's when they break into my home, hoping to steal a glimpse, or perhaps a momento, of Squirrel Momma, that I feel it has really gone too far.
Last night, at about 4 in the morning, Squirrel Man and I woke up to the sound of a large crash coming from downstairs. We both sat bolt upright in bed, and another, smaller crash soon followed. My husband grabbed a Maglite flashlight (the hefty steel favorite of patrol officers everywhere) and crept downstairs, me cowering close behind him.
We tiptoed from room to room, trying to figure out what had been knocked over while I secretly hoped that the intruder would escape outside before we actually found him. When Squirrel Man went down into the basement, the only place we hadn't searched, I slunk back into the living room, and that's when I stumbled upon our intruder.
He was fearless, cocky even. And, as he sat there watching me, I had to admit he was also kind of adorable. Everything from his soft chinchilla fur to his big black eyes said, "I just wanted to snuggle with you, Squirrel Momma!"
Even though flying squirrels (yes, we don't get just ordinary squirrels in our living room, we get FLYING squirrels) are just about the cutest thing around, I knew I had to remain strong. If you show even the tiniest bit of friendliness to one of these critters, the next thing you know they and their 27 babies, uncles, and cousins have moved into your attic.
Out came the live trap. Out came the blanket. But after 15 minutes of following him from room to room (you know they're feeling no fear when they sit 5 feet from you, grooming their fur) it was a simple open door that sent him scurrying on his way, out into the night.
But he'll be back. They always come back.
(And no, I didn't take the photo. Taking pictures at 4 a.m. in near darkness is beyond my mental capabilities. This cutie comes courtesy of http://www.batguys.com/contact/NewHampshire.html.)