The Squirrel

That damn squirrel is back again.

I say "damn" because I evicted the little b*stard a few weeks ago when I saw that he chewed a hole through my screen. Now here it is, 70 degrees outside, and I can't open the window because I know he'll try to move right in.

I read on the internet that a way to get rid of squirrels is to spray coyote urine wherever you don't want them. Now, where in the hell am I supposed to get that? As you can imagine we don't have many coyotes here in Brooklyn, and even if we did, I can't see myself sticking a dixie cup between its legs and asking for a sample.

I could try to collect some pee pee from Elvis, but I can't imagine he'd be too happy about it.



Ever since the vet used a syringe to do it, he won't let me near the area anyway. (Not that I try to go there often, but you know what I mean... he's made it very clear that it's off-limits.)

Anywho, my sister told me to try sprinkling his pee-peed cat litter out there, which isn't a bad idea. I think I'm going to give it a try. If that doesn't work, I swear to God, I'm going to get out there myself and christen the place. That squirrel is going down.