Subtitled: Assaulting Random Household Objects & Jack-O-Lanterns

Today was a. Day. I walked out of my office feeling drained beyond all belief. I had lots of meetings and I had to plan more for tomorrow. Great, nothing like loading up on more to do before vacation. I get this feeling that somewhere there is a big spirit in the sky looking down going “You’re DOING IT WRONG!”

I got in the car and we drove home in relative silence, both Bayou and I too tired to talk. I closed my eyes and before I knew it, we were pulling into the driveway. I looked up to see the strangest sight.

A small gray squirrel was standing in front of our steps and pumpkins. He had his little paws on the front of the smaller pumpkin. He almost seemed to be looking at it, surveying the pumpkin like an artist might gaze at his canvas.

It turns out he was surveying, alright- for the best place to lean in and take a big-ass bite!

Bayou and I just sat there and looked at this little pumpkin muncher and gaped. He was mauling our art! After a minute I shook myself from the hypnotic carnage and leaned on the horn.

Breeeeeeeep!! The squirrel jumped, quite startled, and took off up the nearest tree. We pulled into the garage and I ran to the step.

The little fucker had damaged our change pumpkin! The top stripe was hanging pathetically down, looking limp. My scary face pumpkin now has two eyes on the left, instead of one. And my poor, baby tiny pumpkin has a big gouge in his face. If I get a chance tomorrow, I will take damage shots.

Meanwhile…within our humble abode…

I stumbled in the house, wanting nothing more than to nap. But, I had a conference call with India at 7pm, so I couldn’t very well go to sleep. Bayou cooked and I surfed. I got up a bit later to get a drink, and that’s when I saw it. Or didn’t see it.

My beloved bonsai tree, Iggy (short for Yggdrasil) was on the floor. Roots completely exposed, tray broken, dirt and rocks everywhere. And god only knows how long he’d lain there. (Yes, it’s a he. Don’t ask me why.)

I slowly gathered up the dirt and tried to find a place to put Iggy when Pixel, now aka Destructo Cat, came up to admire her handiwork and attempt another tiny-clawed grab at his root ball. I grabbed her by the scruffy of the neck and put her out of the way. I ended up having to run to our local hardware store to find a pot and tray to replace the broken shards lying on the floor.

Later, I picked up Pixel and showed her the forlorn and chewed-on bonsai. In my sternest voice, I said “This is not okay.” She looked at me, wide-eyed, and ran away when I put her down.

I went back to preparing for my conference call. I sat down in the big green chair, and worked on setting up my computer. About 30 minutes into the call, Pixel crawled up on the back of the chair. I ignored her.

After a few minutes she eased, ever so slowly, down onto my shoulder and laid her chin down. Then the purr motor turned on in earnest. I ignored her. The purr got louder. I continued to ignore her.

Pixel turned her head to the left and nuzzled my neck. Sighing, I reached up and stroked her chin. Mega-purr. I said, quietly, “I love you. But don’t ever do it again.”

The purr rumbled against my neck, louder and more apologetic than ever.