The Squirrel Wars

As many of you know, I have a bushy-tailed friend who likes to visit me when my door is open. Let me start at the beginning.

I live in a 70's style complex in Los Angeles. It's vaguely reminiscient of a Motel 6, except its an enclosed polygonal configuration of sorts. The three story building surrounds a central "plaza" that contains a swingin' 70's kidney-shaped pool, BBQs and laundry facilities. The complex is fairly lush and green. That said, we have a few squirrelly friends who join us in our daily life.

When I used to hang out up on the third floor, there was this adorable frenchman who lived in what is now my apartment. He was a pastry chef and spoke with a beautiful accent. He also had an annoying habit of feeding squirrels. Now when I say feeding, I don't mean leaving food out for them on the lawn, I mean he put food on a mat inside his door and encouraged the squirrel in for a visit.

This squirrel is one curious little shit. Numerous times I have opened my door to find him out on my doorstep, just itching for a chance to get inside again. If I leave the door open too long, he walks right in and starts exploring. When I first got my printer, I was on the floor setting it up with all the ink cartridges. I turn around and the squirrel is right over my shoulder watching, rapt in attention. A few weeks ago I was cleaning the closet in my dressing area - suddenly I notice some movement out of the corner of my eye. You guessed it...the squirrel is almost in the closet with me.

I chase him out every time, I throw markers and small objects in his general direction, I close the door, I yell at him, I stomp and generally make a fool of myself. And yet there he is, waiting for me, always outside my door.

The Squirrel Wars: Squirrel 1, Me 0.