So You Think You Can Dance?

…actually a better title for this blog is, “So You Think You Can Get the Dead Squirrel Away from Your Labrador Retriever?” However, I’ll concede that the act of trying to grab the squirrel from a wild animal is very similar to dancing.

It was a hot, steamy rainy day in South Florida. Alley, my two-year old Lab had been in the house for the majority of the day and was growing antsy. She had already chewed her 15^th remote control to bits and was simply looking for trouble.

Desperate, I finally let her outside in the rain when it stopped storming and was simply raining at a steady pace.  I understood how she felt on this rainy Saturday. Everyone seemed a little stir crazy. My daughter had finished the Twilight series on DVD and was officially convinced a vampire was going to bite her tonight and my son had bloodshot eyes from playing too much World of Warcraft.

Finally, the voice of reason, my husband says that we should get out of the house and maybe go to dinner.  Great, but Alley was still outside.  We have an electric fence around our property which about an acre plus so chasing her in (since she gives me a dirty look when I say “come”) was tough.

However she seemed to be occupied behind a tree so I hoped I could sneak up behind her and grab the unwitting dog.  As the rain fell softly on the grass, I tip toed closer to the dog who seemed to be overly occupied with something in the grass.

I neared the animal only to realize that “something in the grass” was a squirrel…a dead squirrel…a dead squirrel that was now missing his head.

She joyously flipped its poor, lifeless body in the air and that’s when I took off running and trying not to vomit. I ran into the house to tell my family and all three of them shrugged their shoulders and said, “Oh well…let’s go to dinner!”

None of those civilians witnessed the gore and horror of the headless squirrel so they had their appetite.  Unsure how to combat this response, I willingly went along to dinner and left Alley outside with her friend.

When we returned home a few hours later, it was still raining and Alley was still playing. But I wasn’t anymore.  I had to get her in the house and get rid of the body in my front yard.

A few things I learned when trying to catch a crazed animal:

• Look the animal directly in the eyes and don’t lose eye contact.
• Act very nonchalant when approaching the dog; she’ll think you are up to something if you lunge at her (I learned the hard way).
• Give up-they’ll eventually get tired.

It was like we were dancing-I would lunge one way, she the other.  I would get close enough to grab her, but she would elude me every time. She was like a skillful running back (is that the football player who bobs and weaves???) playing keep away, but instead with a headless squirrel.

The more I chased, the more excited she became. This dog who sleeps 20 hours a day had more energy than ever. Eventually, came back into the house, drenched from the downpour only to watch Alley celebrating in the grass.

It wasn’t until dark that we finally got her inside, threw her in the bathtub and put her in her room.  My husband had the dubious honor of finding the carcass, which he did and disposed of it.

One troubling aspect (among many that evening) was that we couldn’t find the squirrel head.  For weeks I avoided walking in my grass, worried that I would stumble across the head, like something from Law and Order Miami, but I never did.  Did she eat it?  She’s not talking either.