Damien, the Creepy White Squirrel

Last week, my friend Haddie arrived for an afternoon visit.  It was a mild (for Southern Connecticut) late autumn afternoon.  We decided to step out onto the deck and enjoy a bit of sunshine.

As we chatted, I noticed one of the Bubble’s dumb white squirrels about 50 feet away. (I call it dumb because it waits until the dog is six inches away before running up the tree.) I pointed it out to Haddie.  She had never before seen a white squirrel in person.  We continued to shoot the breeze.  After less than five minutes, we noticed something move to the tree adjacent to the deck.  It was the white squirrel.

Haddie and I laughed a bit and made mildly aggressive gestures toward the squirrel figuring it would scurry away.  It did not.  Rather, it seemed encouraged by our movement and crawled closer.

This creature continued to approach us in a manner we soon deemed to be threatening.  The curious and formerly cute squirrel was firmly in the no-longer-funny zone.  At the corner of the deck, there was an empty planter leftover from summer habanero gardening that had about a half dozen wooden stakes leaning inside.  I grabbed a stake and started banging it between the slats of the deck hoping to startle it away.  No such luck.

The white rat got closer still.  Haddie and I nervously giggled, but it was apparent that we would not be surprised if this thing launched itself at our faces.  I threw the stake in my hand toward the squirrel.  It made contact.  Not a full clunking head hit, but it was definitely felt.  What did the *&$% do?  It came closer.

Haddie picked up a wooden stake and tossed it for a near hit.  The squirrel got even closer to the deck, preparing to jump.

We promptly ran inside and closed the deck slider door.

Normally the wiener dog turns into a whirling dervish when a rat b*stard squirrel lands on her deck.  For some reason, she never saw this exchange.  I was too horror-struck by the fearlessness of this demonic rodent to even think about Phoebe.

Minutes after Haddie and I escaped to indoor safety, Damien the Satanic Rat jumped onto the deck and began to approach the glass slider we secured ourselves behind.  He struck a pose in front of my grill.

By this time, I’ve started banging the glass with my forearm.  The rodent was no more than two feet from the glass and he didn’t even flinch.  He simply moved in for a close up.

After about 15 minutes, Damien appeared to have left.  We stepped back outside to the deck looking left, right and, more importantly, above.  Haddie and I were certain this thing would descend from a tree limb.  Thankfully, the area seemed to be clear.  Later, we did however see Damien sitting on a rock, staring in our direction.  We got the message and retreated indoors.  This thing was not to be messed with.

I’ve not seen the creeper since Haddie left on Thursday.  Tomorrow, however, she is scheduled to come over and help decorate my place for the holidays and bake some cookies.  I expect Damien, the Sequel.

Check out my Guest Blogger post at Hippie Cahier

I was honored to be invited by The Hipster to write a guest blogger post for Hippie Cahier. I would be delighted if you’d check it out, along with the rest of The Hipster’s entertaining content!

Also, here is a recent addition to my glitter addiction as referenced in one of my comments on the post.  It’s temporary.  Lasts a good week, but then starts to look a bit like a skin disease as it flakes off.

If I wasn’t such a chicken, I’d be tempted to do the real thing. But at least this way, there are no regrets.

Vote for your favorite wiener dog holiday photo card pose!

It started innocently enough nine years ago. Someone gave me a cute little holiday hat or frock for my mini dachshund. As payback for all the years of kiddie holiday photo cards from friends, I decided to dress Phoebe and turn it into a card.

The wiener dog was humiliated by the costume and plainly displayed her displeasure in the photo. I promised her I’d never do it again. But then came the silly Halloween costume. Followed by yet another Christmas-y costume. And then another promise.

Every year I try to stop creating the ridiculous photos, but then a well-meaning friend sends another costume. This afternoon, we had our photo shoot wearing the latest holiday outfit gift. I can’t decide which pose to use. Care to share your input?

Does this cape make me look fat?

One night soon, I will kill Betty while she sleeps

Even though I look cute, i refuse to smile

Back to my Roots

It’s pretty clear that I’ve had very little to say over the better part of this year. Even though my muse/partner-in-crime, June B. Stewart, no longer walked the beat with me, I still thought I’d have things to say. Apparently not.

In addition to June’s absence, I guess I didn’t realize that there was simply nothing interesting happening in the Bubble.  Until….the tenants in Unit B (which shares a porch with my unit and another) moved out.  Swell, here we go again. Most importantly, it reminded me why I launched this blog.

I won’t bore you with the usual petty b.s. that happens when a neighboring condo unit turns over. But those of you who know a little something about me know that while I’m basically a laid back, easy going person, unwritten condo common courtesy parking infractions send me over the edge. It’s the Betty possession.

After three weeks of watching the new arrivals in Unit B blatantly disregard established parking courtesies, they continued to park in my second space, which admittedly is not occupied even close to 24/7.  But since each condo unit is entitled to two parking spaces at all times, I act like an unreasonable lunatic to ensure that the four to six total hours a day that I might need my second space, it’s available.

So, as Mr Unit B (whom we’ve officially nicknamed DB) and the four cars associated with him continued to park beyond the two spaces to which he was entitled, I dropped this “joke” parking citation on his windshield one morning.  He did not find it humorous. Come on, wouldn’t you laugh if someone hit you with it?  Especially the hummer violation.

If you didn't laugh when this was dropped on your windshield, then you are probably a jerk.

Have a great Thanksgiving holiday!

xo

Betty

Payback’s a bitch. Revenge served cold – 6 year old style.

If you’ve read my rubber snake post, you know the background.  (If not, check this out first.)

Soon after scaring the bejeezus out of my housecleaner, I decided to launch the snake on my six-year old neighbor, Lola. I did ask her mother’s permission, of course.  I may not be fond of children, but I know where to draw the line.  Plus, this kid is cool. You can actually have an interesting conversation with her.

I knew that Lola was a prankster, so I asked her Mom if it would be okay for me to put the snake in their mailbox.  Lola’s newest extension of boundaries allowed her to walk to the mailbox herself to collect their mail. Mom thought the snake was a great idea.

I watched from my window as she skipped to the mailbox, opened it and….immediately grabbed the snake, dancing around with laughter.  Within seconds, my doorbell rang and there was Lola mocking my pathetic attempt to snake her.  I then told her that the snake was hers to pay forward. I explained that revenge was best served cold.  The next day, she sprang it on her father.  She had it waiting in the bathroom for him.  I was disappointed. She just didn’t get it.

Or did she?

This afternoon, a good three months since I snaked her, I stepped out with the wiener dog to collect my mail.  I opened the mailbox to this:

Ben, is that you?

I’ll admit, my initial reaction was fear.  But then I connected the dots.  I could not, however, bring myself to touch it. Its paws just looked so creepy.  I brought the wiener dog back inside. I knew if she was beside me when I pulled it out, she’d come unglued, thinking it was another fun thing to chase like squirrels and chipmunks (the latest Bubble invaders.)

I returned to the mailbox to collect the rat and my mail. As I walked back to the porch that is shared with Lola and her family, there she stood. Bent over with laughter. She knew she got me.  But the rat is now mine. The wheels are turning.  Who will be the next victim?  And what does Lola have in mind for the snake?  I haven’t forgotten that she’s still sitting on it. Two in play.

Would you ever expect evil glee from a cute kid like this?

The Reason Rubber Snakes Exist

Back in the early 90s, I was sent on an extended business trip through Europe. During a stay somewhere in Germany, I came across some sort of chocolate covered insect that I bought and shipped to a friend/colleague back in the US. As I had hoped, they creeped her out (I can’t remember what sort of insect, but it was an intentional selection on my part, I knew it was a particularly disturbing species for her.)

I returned to the office two months later. As I settled back into my office space, I discovered her revenge: a strategically placed rubber snake. This snake bounced between our two offices in various hiding places for the next several months until she left the company. I then decided to initiate the snake into my personal life.

For the past 17 or 18 years, this snake has traveled among a few households of family and friends. After you receive the snake as a victim, the key is to hold onto it for several months until the other participants simply forget its existence, then make your move. There is no particular order for victim selection. The more random, the better.

This snake has popped up in countless “hiding places.” It could be boxed within a victim’s Christmas present, coiled inside a pot in a cabinet and, of course, between sheets. Although between the sheets does create the desired horror, it’s a common location that generally hits the same day you happened to have visited the victim’s home. It’s always good to select a hiding spot like the pot in a cabinet because it could be days or weeks after your visit that the victim makes use of the pot.

I came across the snake in my closet about a week ago. It wasn’t the “plant,” I had found it months earlier but had simply put it away to ponder the next victim and destination. I was leaving the next day for a trip, so I pulled it out of the closet and just hooked it over the railing of my staircase. This way, I’d be reminded to get working on it when I got back from my trip.

The problem is, I forgot that my cleaning people were coming in while I was traveling. As one of them started up the stairs to clean the bedrooms, this is what she saw:

Apparently her biggest fear is snakes. The email she sent me today had me crying with laughter – I’m still crying. After reading today’s Blurt, I fear that revenge is on the horizon for me. If so, I can take it because the housecleaner experience epitomized what rubber snake pranks are all about. I’m only sorry that it happened to an uninitiated, but otherwise the best rubber snake prank. Ever.