There is a squirrel in my attic.
We have had a man from the rental company come and shoo it out before. He even cut down the tree limbs that overhung our roof (in hopes of deterring the squirrels from returning).
It was only a matter of time.
The squirrel hath returned.
At least we were told it was a squirrel. It certainly does not sound like one. Before the man came with his vein attempt to rid us of the beast, it had gotten lost in our attic. In the confusion and panic that came with being lost among, what I can only assume were, boxes of moldy Christmas decorations, baubles, family photos, and other kitch left by previous tenants...it began to cry. A terrible whimper that resonated throughout the house, turning into a wailing screech.
Our dog, not knowing where the cries were originating from, would run up and down the hall, barking at the ceiling.
We could not scold her for barking at nothing.
I did not know that squirrels cried. Now, I do not believe that they cry.
We think that it was something larger, more sinister, than a squirrel. That, we are victims of a mass conspiracy, covering up the existence of a much larger mammal.
The roof has begun to leak again. I wonder if that has anything to do with the squirrel...and not the rain.