Today, in the midst of Easter dinner (a homemade tomato-turkey meat sauce over gluten-free spaghetti), Spaz the Kitty ran through the patio door proudly showing off her latest catch: a chipmunk - who was still alive, and who proceeded to wriggle its way free and dart into the kitchen, never to be seen again. Well, at least for the last six hours or so. No amount of verbal coaxing has done a thing. For one thing, I don't speak Chipmunk. But, with any luck, the apartment maintenance guy can move the stove and fridge and get the little bugger to come out. Barring that, an exterminator might have to be retained to lure it out, capture it, and let it go (I'm going for my idealistic, non-violent version of an exterminator. Call me a dreamer.).
Why I tell this story? Sometimes things come dashing into our lives and take up temporary (short or long-term) residence in our homes, hearts, minds. Sometimes, you can knock it out with a well-placed flashlight beam and the tip of a wooden training sword, and sometimes, well, you can't. Then you need some help - from friends, professionals, or even the occasional Jedi Mind Trick. There is no shame in any of this. The worse thing we can do is to ignore the little intruder, hoping he'll find his own way out, only to find ourselves wrinkling our noses one morning, thinking "What IS that smell?"
File under "life's strange lessons."
1 comment:
I vote for using a Have a Heart trap.
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