Took my old car into Firestone yesterday, belt fell off and needed some minor work done. Got a call from them about an hour later to come and get the car. I asked if they finished and what it would cost, they said they never got to it, because as soon as they put it up on the lift, maggots started "raining from your engine area"! I had noticed a bit of a smell recently, but thought it was just some dead this or that in the woods near where I park the car. After an hour of looking and searching the engin, wheelwells, etc., I can't find a thing. But I sure can smell it now!
Than last evening, a squirrel was chewing through our bird feeder (we have an abundance of them around here), so I got the 'ol pellet gun out, had Shadow the wonder mutt chase it up a tree, and popped it. Shadow is mostly beagle (and what ever else could jump high fences) and loves to chase squirrels and rabbets. When she hears me cocking the gun, she goes nuts, knowing that with any luck, wounded squirrels could be falling from the sky soon. She got this one, shook it vigorously, and trotted off to the woods for her evening treat. About ten minutes later, just after my wife came home, I was at the computer and she said, "what's that squeaking noise by the door"? I didn't think/speak up fast enough and before I could tell her to not open the door, she opened it, a bloody, mangled squirrel dragged itself into the house, Shadow and Hunter (the retarded Lab from across the street) came bounding in after it, dancing and yipping with glee, showing Mary what a wonderful prize they brought us, Mary went screaming around the house, and I couldn't stop laughing.
Got the dogs out, put 'ol fuzzy butt out of it's misery, tried to console my basically hysterical wife, and made myself a double Manhattan. All in all an interesting day.
Natch
Than last evening, a squirrel was chewing through our bird feeder (we have an abundance of them around here), so I got the 'ol pellet gun out, had Shadow the wonder mutt chase it up a tree, and popped it. Shadow is mostly beagle (and what ever else could jump high fences) and loves to chase squirrels and rabbets. When she hears me cocking the gun, she goes nuts, knowing that with any luck, wounded squirrels could be falling from the sky soon. She got this one, shook it vigorously, and trotted off to the woods for her evening treat. About ten minutes later, just after my wife came home, I was at the computer and she said, "what's that squeaking noise by the door"? I didn't think/speak up fast enough and before I could tell her to not open the door, she opened it, a bloody, mangled squirrel dragged itself into the house, Shadow and Hunter (the retarded Lab from across the street) came bounding in after it, dancing and yipping with glee, showing Mary what a wonderful prize they brought us, Mary went screaming around the house, and I couldn't stop laughing.
Got the dogs out, put 'ol fuzzy butt out of it's misery, tried to console my basically hysterical wife, and made myself a double Manhattan. All in all an interesting day.
Natch
