La guerre de la planète des écureuils

We appear to be living in not one but TWO horror movie sub-genres at the moment:

1. Post-apocalyptic dystopia.

2. Erm, those films in which the protagonist offends the wrong people and receives a warning message daubed on their house.

Not content with annoying the magpies, the parakeets, the foxes and the dogs, and despite being Côned, Louis Catorze has now pissed off the squirrels. And this was their grim reminder that they are not to be messed with:

We have seen news stories about nature reclaiming the planet now that we humans have retreated into our homes (for example, those goats in that town in Wales: https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/av/uk-wales-52109712/coronavirus-goats-take-over-deserted-llandudno) and it seems that our answer to that is the squirrels. They are the new gangland bosses who rule the lawless streets of TW8, and they appear to have teamed up with the magpies and the parakeets to form a united force against their common foe: cats.

(It also doesn’t help that relations between Cocoa the babysit cat and the squirrels are acrimonious, to say the least. He can name murder, actual bodily harm, kidnapping and unlawful imprisonment among his crimes against squirrels, so you can’t really blame them for not liking cats.)

Not only do the squirrels seem bigger, cheekier and more prolific than ever before, but they are also noisier. Yes, squirrels have a NOISE, which is a new, and not especially pleasant, discovery to us. We have heard the abrasive part-chatter, part-rattle during Catorze’s supervised exercise yard sessions – with the little sod occasionally meowing back – and now we realise that it wasn’t just an incidental squirrely sound but a battle cry. And I dread to think what Catorze said in return. I had hoped it might have been a friendly “Bonjour” but, under the circumstances, this seems unlikely.

These are dangerous times indeed, Mesdames et Messieurs. We have been told that we must stay at home to remain safe, but I feel anything but safe knowing that the squirrels KNOW WHERE WE LIVE.

*EDIT: 48 hours after Cat Daddy cleared up the above mess, the squirrels returned and did the same again, presumably because we talked. Shit just got serious.

Le mauvais écureuil

Oh my: it seems we may have been a little hasty in accusing Louis Catorze of digging around in the sedums.

To be honest we had started to have our suspicions some time ago, when we noticed that the soil disturbance incidents didn’t correspond with Catorze’s escapes at The Front. And, as we were leaving the house the other day, we caught this sizeable sod – he doesn’t look that large in the photo but, trust me, he was massive – having a fine old time in our recycling box planter. I wasn’t quite quick enough to catch him in the act, but here he is making his escape (below).

I almost feel bad for blaming Sa Maj, but then Cat Daddy rightfully pointed out 1) that Catorze doesn’t care (and never did) and 2) that it makes up for all those times when he did things and got away with it.

We can’t prove the things, nor do we know what half the things even are. But we know that THERE HAVE BEEN THINGS.