Football Sunday lived up to my high expectations. And yes thats me so pumped up to be watching football that I'm cheering and saying "Beautiful" as I watch a kicker get Kung Fu kicked in the face during a punt return. I love watching kickers get mauled on the field. And then, in the late afternoon as the Cowboys were imploding, I looked outside and saw Guinness barking at something in the backyard. That's when I met.. The zombie squirrel.
Now before anyone starts thinking I'm being cruel to a cute wittle squirrel, let me fully explain. When I walked up on this squirrel, it's belly up, not moving. Not moving at all. Just laid out in the grass waiting for the cold, dark caress of death. I'm thinking to myself that I don't know what killed this squirrel so I definitely don't want Guinness around it, but then I see it start to move, just barely. I realize I have to put it out of its misery, but I can't get myself to just pummel it with a shovel outright. [Sidenote: Have you ever thought about the fact that the only thing that makes a squirrel "cute" is its tail. If it had a tail like a rat or a possum it'd neeeever be considered cute. Like not even close. Anyhoo..] I figure I'll throw some dirt on it, knock it out, then get rid of it. Easy does it. This squirrel is so cradled in death's grip that it doesn't even move as I'm shoveling dirt on it. So much so that I'm thinking, yet again, that it's taken it's last breath. I could not be more wrong. It's fist shoots up straight out of the dirt. Are you kidding me? Ok squirrel, sorry bud, but I gotta end this. I channel Jules from Pulp Fiction and strike down upon this squirrel with fuuuuuuurious anger the death blow from above. Totally dead now, right? WRONG. it starts to shake off the dirt, looks up and around, and then right back into laying down waiting for the sweet caress of eternal darkness. From that point on it's basically burial, shovel pummel, squirrel resurrection, burial, shovel pummel, shovel pummel, shovel pummel, squirrel resurrection, burial, shovel pummel, shovel pummel, brick drop, shovel pummel, brick drop, squirrel resurrection, burial. No joke. One of the times I buried it, and I'm talking no part of the squirrel showing, I went inside for a friggin hour. Just let nature take its course, right? WRONG. I go back outside. I get close. Is it moving? [CUE HORROR MOVIE SQUIRREL FIST SHOOTING OUT FROM THE DIRT]. Good god how is this even happening? That's it. I'm done. I don't know what parasite has taken over its body, but it's definitely World War Z-ish. I throw more dirt on it and go back in. I won't be surprised at all of I see an empty squirrel-less tomb in my backyard tomorrow with some weird evil-looking pendant lying in its place. It's so weird cuz if this was a possum or a rat, It'd be nothing to kill it and move on. But a squirrel, it's like you feel for it. All cuz of a bushy tail. Well I tried, Mr. Undead Squirrel. I tried.
Posted with Blogsy
