Amy and her Amazing Flying Flaming Roof Squirrels!

Something absolutely awesome is going on at my house right now.  Squirrels are running around inside of the porch roof.  That’s right, inside of it.  Not on top of it, or under it, but actually inside of it.  They are able to get in there because two years ago their brethren chewed holes through the screen to get to the bird seed inside, and then got stuck in there and spent an evening racing around the porch before chewing exit holes.  They were allowed to chew the second set of holes because although squirrels zipping around in a small space is a totally awesome to watch from the kitchen window, who the hell wants to actually go into said space to let them out?  No one, that’s who.  Anyone with any sense knows that squirrels in small spaces are absolutely terrifying and that you’re sure to lose an eye or get gonorrhea or at least rabies if you go anywhere near them.  It didn’t take long for the cat to find the squirrel holes and to start using them as an escape route to the back yard. Because he’s the size of something you’d find in the zoo, or maybe a freak show, the holes got bigger and bigger and soon Addison started crawling through them as well.  Since the once screened in porch was no longer functional as a child containment unit, the screen came down and because we are lazy a new one never went up.  And now squirrels have found their way into the space between the ceiling of the porch and the actual roof.  I’m contemplating installing a sky light (this, after two years of not fixing a simple screen) so that I can see what they’re up to in there.  Not knowing leaves a lot up to the imagination, though.  My dream is that they’re building a nest in there and stealing cable tv from the bedroom.  They sit in there and smoke squirrel cigars and drink acorn gin and one day soon one of the squirrels will pee on a stick and find out she’s knocked up and then 44 days later (I looked it up) there will be baby squirrels racing around in my roof and they’ll be all hairless and gross but I’ll love them anyway and name one Addison II and one Steve.

Addison II and Steve

When I was in Key West in December there was a guy who would set up this show on sunset pier a couple of times a week.  It was called Dominique and His Flying House Cats.

Dominique had these cats that he had trained to do all sorts of tricks, culminating in the completion of a fascinating obstacle course that involved balance beams, a step ladder, and a ring of fire.

(click here to see the thrilling finale on YouTube)

The last cat to complete the course didn’t even have a tail!  I had a feeling there was something not quite right about the situation, but I couldn’t look away.  After two days of watching the show, I decided the cats must be okay with it because they freaking loved the guy.  Or maybe they were high.  Either way they kept rubbing all over him and purring and bringing him lunch and so forth.  It was wild.  And he was making all sorts of money on Flying Cat t-shirts and post cards and whatnot.  Since neither SAHS or I have jobs, I’ve decided I’m going to start training my baby squirrels to jump through rings of fire, etc soon after they’re born and turn them into cash cows so at least they can pay off the porch roof rent.  I’m going to take my show to downtown Durham, where I’ll either get shot or make a fortune, both outcomes being equally likely which is why I love Durham.  I shared this brilliant idea on Facebook, and Steve’s cousin suggested I lure them out with a chocolate glazed donut on a stick.  I’m not sure what she does for a living, but it must involve varmint training to come up with such a brilliant idea.  Then another person I pretend to know from my high school but I really have no idea who he is asked if he could buy one of my amazing trick squirrels.  I told him he could have one that becomes a flaming flying squirrel in a freak ring of fire accident, and he agreed as long as I can guarantee it’s fur will grow back.  So now that I’m in squirrel trafficking SAHS can concentrate on growing his beard instead of finding a job.  See?  I’m a really really good wife.  And squirrel mommy.