For the last few weeks, we had a new roommate living with us. Not an invited one, for he caused a great deal of ruckus and noise and grief.
This roommate wasn't even a person, but a squirrel.
We have lost whole days to lack of sleep from this rascal, Josiah has many a splinter from attempting to squirrel-proof our attic, and everything we read about eradicating a squirrel-roommate (or two, or three) seemed very daunting. For weeks, we tried everything in the book to deter the little pests, and shored up any places they might be using as a door. But one little roommate still remained.
Until early the other morning, when we awoke to clanging and distressed chittering, and knew we finally caught the little fella. We loaded him up in the car, and the three of us drove away...
The little squirrel was very shaken up, but, oddly, he seemed calmer when we were talking to him. So we drove along, in the pretty, rainy Oregon morning.
Aw. He's still nibbling on his peanut butter in that photo.
We had been so mad at him for so long, but when we actually saw him, it was hard to still be grumpy.
We found a beautiful forest for the squirrel to call home...it glowed with moss.
But our former roommate seemed to have developed pretty significant Stockholm syndrome, and as you can see here, it took a while for him to wise up and bolt from his cage.
He finally did (bolt from the cage),
And I was a little jealous.
But mostly, I am just happy we've gotten some good nights of sleep without loud squirrel-partying carrying on overhead.