Friday, May 25, 2007

There's never just one.

It watches. It waits.


It calls for reinforcements.

Thursday, May 17, 2007

Evidence for why Louis the Whichever Roman Numeral it Was was right to call Western New York "a swamp"

Exhibit A: These conversations occured over the course of a week while house-sitting a year ago

Operator: This is 911.
Me: Hi . . . um . . . I’m not sure whether you’re the right person to call. . . . I’ve got, uh, kind of a raccoon running around my front yard. It looks pretty much rabid to me.
Operator: I’ll send an officer over. Will you be able to meet them at the door?
Me: Well, I’m kind of stuck in the back, locked out of the house, but I’m trying to break in, so hopefully yes.
Operator: Okay. Bye!

Me: Are there any poisonous snakes around here?
My dad: Not really. There are rattlesnakes in the Alleghenies, but not around here. Why?
Me: Well, one of my cats decided to lie down next to one.
My dad: What color is it?
Me: Green and brown.
My dad: Oh, sounds like a . . . Green-and-Brown Snake.
Me: Thank you so much for your help.

Me: Are you sure there are no poisonous snakes around here?
My dad: Pretty sure. Why?
Me: There’s one under the molding in the laundry room.
My dad: Oh?
Me: It’s as long as my arm. It’s looking at the cats.


Exhibit B: A current (and ongoing) series of equally upsetting conversations

Me: I have a problem.
Landlord: Yes?
Me: My walls . . . are squeaking.

Landlord: How are your little critters doing? Did the poison work?
Me: Yes.
Landlord: Are you sure?
Me: Oh, yes. I can smell it.
Landlord: The poison?
Me: No. The dead animal in my wall.

Neighbor: Did you hear that last night?
Me: Hear what?
Neighbor: THE RACCOONS IN THE CEILING OF COURSE WHAT ELSE?
Me: Are you kidding?
Neighbor: NO.

Parents: How are your mice?
Me: Dead. It’s raccoons now. And I could swear I heard meowing over the weekend.
Parents: (speechless)

Landlord: I don’t see how a raccoon could get into the ceiling. It’s got to be a squirrel or chipmunk or something.
Me: A chipmunk is not physically capable of making that much noise. It sounds like a grown man walking on the roof.
Landlord: Hmm, I wonder if someone’s living up there. (laughs)

Boss: Remember when you asked for a pony?
Me: Yes. But I believe I had been drinking when I said that.
Boss: Well, I’m getting you a pink one.
Me: Great. I’ll put it in my ZOO.