So I’m in the bathroom brushing my teeth, as one does in the morning. My back is to the door. I can hear my lover typing away at his laptop, as he often does, journalist. Out of the corner of my eye and from the reflection in the bathroom mirror I see an animal.
You see, my brain has not yet allowed me to make sense of what my eyes have seen, so there is that split second of disbelief; but I’m in my house, naked, brushing my teeth, why am I seeing this and what are you? Brain says,” ANIMAL.” Hope says, “NO.”
My eyes have seen a shape, grey, small and fluffy, it’s a squirrel, but my mind said animal, intruder, DEATH. Naturally I scream, a blood curdling scream, drop my toothbrush and begin to choke on the toothpaste and spit that has collected in my cheeks.
The deadly beast scampers, sliding slightly on the laminated, faux-wood floor of my lounge and darts out of the open glass door that leads to the balcony and connects with a huge tree that has roots in the ground in our bottom neighbours’ yard.
I find my toothbrush, through my teary eyes. By now my journalist has stopped typing, seen the beast and has come to stand at the bathroom door. He is laughing at me. We are both crying, he from laughter, me from the choking and adrenaline.
I want a hug, which I don’t get. He goes back to working, I get dressed and tentatively walk to the balcony. The beast sits in the tree, cute as all hell. It makes its way up the thin branch that connects with my balcony wall. It sits, I step back. It climbs onto my wall, I step back, hold the door frame. It jumps from the balcony wall to the ground on which I stand. I run for my life.
Who is this squirrel?
Eventually I grow a pair, wave my arms and make some noises fit for the brave warrior that I am. It moves slowly back into the tree and watches.
I love animals, BUT, this squirrel is way to comfortable in my space. I grew up in Umlazi, in KZN where if you fed an animal eventually it would eat you. Jokes, but when I was 2 years old I did almost get kidnapped by a monkey, that trauma obviously stayed with me.
Get out of my house! Why does my neighbourhood insist on feeding these creature?! She feeds pigeons and squirrels. I can not stand either of them. Get out of my life! They are so brave.
Now that it is summer time she feeds them fresh fruits and nuts. Her apartment is just below our balcony so they eat and then come to rest on our ledge.
I do not understand the love that people have for feeding wild animals. In my mind the same rules apply for squirrels and pigeons as for Lions. Don’t feed wild animals!
One day that squirrel is going to go into her house while she is sleeping and eat her face, not in the fun, sexy way, no, in the Im-hungry-and-you-equal-food way. Animals are logical. Food equals survival. There is no way that I am going to mess around with that stuff.
I refuse to be associated with food. I choose life. Be gone squirrel, be gone!!!!!