Fatty is Gone

I don't want to talk about it. Fatty turned out to be a she. It didn't end well but it ended.

We lived with fatty for years. She was loud and scratched above our dining room. She would scratch and scratch. It drove me nuts. I called the landlord but the problem was never resolved. Fatty was intermittent. We told him she was gone, but she wasn't. James and I just took matters into our own hands. We figured out where she was getting in and nailed it shut. She went ballistic. She brought over some friends to get back in but eventually gave up.

She got fat from me. I had some birdseed from a Pinterest craft I saw. Fatty tore a hole in the bag and macked on it all the time. She was brazen. She climbed up on the deck, she scurried up the stairs, she didn't care. Will and I would stare at her as she stared at us filling her face with seeds. The birdseed was put in a bucket and zipped up in the greenhouse. When winter ended and I opened the greenhouse, the full bucket was empty. I saw fatty, she was fat. She was a beast.

Over the years, fatty and I had our run ins. I have whacked the shit out of my ceiling. I have whacked the crap out of my plastic green deck roof. One time, I scared fatty so bad she scurried off the roof, full blown panic mode, and flew into the air. She landed on the ground and took off up the giant tree. I doubled over with laughter. One time, when she became a little savvier, she heard me bang the deck roof and she jumped up on the house roof. I went out onto the deck a little further to feel things out. Fatty jumped down from the roof and landed on the hand railing. I screamed bloody murder. At 8AM. She scurried along and climbed down the deck and into her huge tree.

Some time went by and she came back into the house. This time she came to the opposite side of the house. It happened to be the kids room. She started scratching at 6AM and nap time. She fucked with my wrong hours of the day. I called the landlord again. Told him I wanted them dead. He called in Big Tim. He caught 2. We thought he had caught fatty. She went missing for days. But no. I woke up from a sleepy dream to her scratching. It's like nails on a chalkboard. I called Big Tim. He came back and explored the very cramped, very hot, attic. Fatty slipped past him. He found her nest. He found her tunnels. He baited his traps again.

This morning I heard her in the dining room. An odd choice. She hasn't been there for years. I decided I would call late today. I was beginning to feel like a nagging girlfriend to poor Big Tim. I was at Costco when my neighbor texted that we had caught another squirrel and this one looked hurt. I called up Big Tim. Told him the whole story from scratching to being caught. He thought fatty may have scuffed herself up trying to get out and it wasn't anything to worry about. I wrote my neighbor back and told her the same thing.

When we got home, James checked it out. He came back to me and showed me a picture. He didn't want me to see the damage the squirrel had done to herself but I insisted on looking. I wanted this, I had better look and see what I had brought on. It was horrifying. Fatty had rubbed her face off to the bone. It was raw. Just raw. She consumed the whole cage she was so fat. We went inside the house. We are the only people in our circle of neighbors who don't own a gun. I wrote our neighbor back and told her it was bad. I asked if they had a gun. She said they did but they weren't home. At dark, big Tim showed up. James took Kiki with him outside to talk to Big Tim. They found Fatty was dead. I guessed she had a heart attack from being so fat. Big Tim said they just flip a switch and die. When they know they are in imminent danger and don't want to go on, they can just die. Apparently that's how fatty chose to go.

I am sad it had to end this way. I wish we could have sealed the holes up, wherever they are. I don't ever want to be in this situation again.