Something Squirrely

We have a problem around here. No one closes the doors.

I remember my mother yelling at us when we were kids and would all tumble out of the car, leaving all the doors open behind us. "Who do you think you are, The President?" And we would roll our eyes because, well, NO, as far as we knew The President didn't have to eat broccoli, let alone attend class and practice the violin. But we got the point about the car doors.

Only here it's not the car doors. Those close. Often with younger siblings still inside the vehicle. The doors to the house, though.... different story.

In all honesty, they probably get it from me. I'm in the habit of leaving the door open for a younger someone to make their way out. Or because I know I left the dry cleaning in the kitchen or a shopping bag in the trunk, but I'm lacking a third arm so I need to make multiple trips.

Anyway, the end result is that I often find myself pulling away from the house and noticing that the door is wide open and that both cats are sprinting across the lawn, one really fast and one in a slow "where am I?" kind of lope.

But today, something got in.

I was putting away the groceries and suddenly I see a small something scrambling along the corner of the back hall and rush into the bathroom. And predictably, I shrieked. Twice. And a third time when I thought it was gone ten minutes later and was helping Andy use the bathroom and it crawled out from under the door.

At the time I couldn't even decide what it was. It was too big to be a mouse, looked like a squirrel but was small, more the size of a fat chipmunk. But with a long tail. Steve thinks it was a Flying Squirrel.

Anyway, it was terrified. I opened all the doors to encourage it to leave, but it took refuge in the heating pipe thingy along the baseboard of the back hall and wouldn't leave. Even when I opened the door and then banged on the vent. And then poured water on it to encourage it to leave. It refused to leave, it's brown fur poking out ever so slightly from the vent, it's little pink mouth lapping up the water around it. "Thanks for the drink!"

I had to pick up Nick, and I couldn't leave it IN the house because we have cats and a dog. Steve came up when his call ended and somehow managed to get it out. He got it into a giant gift bag we had on hand, but it just jumped right out, ran up a sweatshirt hanging on a doorknob, across the windowsill, and somehow Steve managed to guide it through the open door. And Puck, who just happened to be outside, immediately noticed it and started chasing it in his crazy, not so fast way.

And I wasn't going to post this but it's too funny, then Steve, who had been working all morning and had yet to shower, ran out in his bathrobe and started chasing the cat.

I am nor seriously cracking down on the open-door situation.