Not every family road trip begins with an Attack of the Carnivorous Beast, but then, just packing our bags and shuffling out to the car for a weekend family trip to Healdsburg isn’t exactly stunning blog fodder.
To set the stage for my latest Brush With Death, the L&T and I were packed, late, and trying to get the hell out of town when I realized I was one cat short inside the house (a measure needed to make sure she doesn’t become fox food).
I finally found the cat under the fleece blanket hanging over the couch. I mean, the blanket moved, and what else could it be, right?
So I stuck my hand under the blanket, grabbed the first furry thing I found, and pulled out a… pissed off chipmunk.
Do You Hear a Little Girl Screaming?
I’d love to say I reacted in a deeply manly fashion and simply dropped the Chipmunk, but I’d be lying.
Nor will I say I “screamed like a little girl.”
Frankly, that would be demeaning to little girls everywhere, who couldn’t help but display more composure than I did.
I made an odd, strangled noise, followed by an odd, high-pitched, very-loud strangled noise.
I then dropped the crazed chipmunk directly on top of my foot, which caused me to make another odd, high-pitched, very loud strangled noise.
Let’s just say I’m thankful there wasn’t a video camera rolling.
A few minutes later – after the L&T’s hearing began to come back – we tipped the couch up and using powerful weapons with exceptional standoff capability (brooms), managed to coax the still pissed-off chipmunk out the door.
I breathed a deep sigh of relief.
Sure, laugh it up and all, but I’ll bet those of you smirking right now never saw the English documentary movie about the dangers small furry animals pose to humans, but I sure as hell have. Simply put, I reacted the way I did because I know the dangers:
The rest of of the family trip to Healdsburg was tame by comparison, and I’m happy to be back home, where there are rumors of big bugs and Golden Stones waiting to pop (delayed a little by the abnormally cool, thunderstormy weather we’ve been experiencing).
It’s going to be a full week, Undergrounders (deadly chipmunks or not). Better hang on.
{ 12 comments… read them below or add one }
That is hilarious! It’s only so funny because I could see myself reacting the same way. Even though I typically like cats, I’d blame it all on the cat. Steve(Quote)
It is the cat’s fault. How do you think the chipmunk ended up inside the house? Tom Chandler(Quote)
Thomas, I have been asked by those who want to know, did you find the cat and bring it in while you were gone? With that bear around, I would worry about the cat.
Did Wally the Wonderdog help you with the wild animal?
cbc cbchandler, cb(Quote)
“That chipmunk is dynamite!”
And you thought killer bees were a threat… Smarter and Better Looking Brother(Quote)
cbchandler echoes my thoughts exactly. What of the cat? And what heroic role did WWD play in all this? I’d have to guess that he ultimately save you from a vicious chipmunk. Kentucky Jim(Quote)
Yup, know the feeling…
I woke up one Sunday morning, threw on a t-shirt, and wandered out to the kitchen, still half-asleep…only to glance down and see a rather large Huntsman spider crawling up the front of my shirt.
Now, the Huntsman is an Aussie spider, and is large but (thankfully) non-venomous and quite passive. People even have ‘em as pets.
I know well, Tom, that strangled noise, although mine was combined with an ‘Arrrhhhhhh!!!’, a one-legged dance across the kitchen (I kid you not) and a manic ripping off of the t-shirt.
This is completely true: standing totally naked in the lounge, I looked to see the spider walking nonchalantly away across the carpet, but it stopped and turned, and I swear it looked at with with a ‘you idiot’ look, before it continued on its way.
I then realised the curtains were open. Our two story house featured a lounge with gigantic glass windows that looked out over the street (once bushland) onto the church opposite. In which the members were gather outside. About a hundred of them.
All staring at me.
Gotta laugh, eh?
PS: check this great video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8clCtchtvkA
A very conservative church, I might add…whose followers were, at that every monent, paul w(Quote)
Screams and squeals ………. James Dickey, the author of Deliverance, would be so proud. Turnip Truck Driver(Quote)
Am I the only one hoping paul w returns to finish his story? What a cliffhanger! MHH(Quote)
The Wonderdog was firmly planted in the back of the Forerunner – his typical location when he realizes one or both of us is packing a bag. He doesn’t want to be left behind.
His contribution was limited to chasing the chipmunk up a tree after we’d evicted it from the house.
The cat was inside already and chasing the chipmunk around under the fleece blanket, so I guess you could say it was problem solved. Tom Chandler(Quote)
At least the chipmunk didn’t bite you. Rabies shots = no fun. SMJ(Quote)
You know, I sure hope none of our wives or girlfriends (or both) are reading this post. I mean, they might get the idea that we virile he-men are something else than the fearless warrior-types we make out to be.
Not that I wouldn’t react similarly—no, I would be screaming like a chorus of little girls. We just don’t need to let on how un-manly we really can be.
Or maybe they already know… A. Wannabe Travelwriter(Quote)
“Or maybe they already know…”
Nah, just quickly look ‘em in the eye and b******t that some men are pussies, but not you. Then quickly change the subject.
Works (nearly) every time for me.
Until she finds another spider, at which point it’s best to get her from the room and quietly call a male friend to come and help.
I did. She still thinks we were heroic.
As for my other post and the church congregation, the line at the end was something I removed but forgot to delete.
But I do mean CONSERVATIVE. paul w(Quote)