By Anne Sullivan
I was watching an afternoon episode of “Law and Order,” one I hadn’t seen before, when my attention was seized by a tremendous commotion outside the house. Sylvia was barking like the world was coming to an end. Recognizing that this was an important bark, I ran outside but Sylvia was nowhere to be seen.
“Sylvia, Sylvia, where are you?” I called loudly and frantically.
I could hear her frenzied barks which seemed to come from the back porch, which was unusual as I was unable to figure out how she could have gotten in there since all doors were locked. Nevertheless, I ran up the back porch steps but was stopped by RingWorm who pointed toward the front of the house. There I was able to pinpoint the noise and hear, but not see, Sylvia who was somehow under the back porch. She was hidden by the wooden siding around the bottom of the porch.
“Take that, you rapscallion,” she was yelling. “I know what you’re after. You can’t fool me. No squirrel is going to steal our gold.”
I could hear desperate squeaks from the offending squirrel. Since I don’t speak Squirrel, I could only surmise it was denying everything and pleading for its life.
Both RingWorm and Gordo watched with concern as I bounded into the house and returned with a hammer. After some nail removal I was able to pry enough edge of the siding away so I could see Sylvia, who totally ignored me as she went at what I guessed was the hapless squirrel.
The following epithets and threats came between violent shakes: “Listen, you dirty rat, there’s a place for vermin like you. I said all along that the Lost Adams Diggings was here under our house. This is our claim. I recognize you in spite of the mask you’re wearing. You’re one of our string of squirrels that pull the wagon. You’re nothing but a traitor and a spy. And you know what happens to spies. Take that, you dirty squirrel.”
“Sylvia,” I called into the dark underground, “that’s no way for a lady to talk.”
Sylvia paid no attention to me. Her eyes were on the squeaking squirrel. “You’ll regret the day you fooled with me (thump). We gave you a job and this is the way you repay us (thump).”
The thumps were accompanied by piercing squeaks from the what must now be repentant squirrel.
Unattracted as I am by any form of vermin, I was still forced to holler, “Sylvia, cease. Desist.”
Sylvia continued with her dirty work.
“Sylvia, you’re an absolute beast,” I called through the siding.
“You bet,” she paused long enough to say. “I’m protecting our home. This is our gold. It belongs to us.” With that, she gave the wretched squirrel another thorough shake. “I’ll Gotch Ear you, you unspeakable rotten rodent. Is that how you demonstrate loyalty to your employers? We gave you nuts to feather your nest with and now this!”
“Sylvia,” I asked, “where did you get the nuts? It’s too early to gather them.”
“Uh uh…you remember those nuts you had in the cold room?”
“Do you mean the walnuts I store in there for my brownies?”
“Well…uh…I guess that could be them…I guess.”
“I guess you’re in real trouble for not asking me if you could use my walnuts.”
“Aw, gee whiz, it’s for a very important cause. We’re not going to keep all of the gold. Some of it is going for household expenses.”
“That’s very sweet of you. However…”
During this exchange the squirrel, who I have to say looked pretty sneaky, had slowly backed away from Sylvia and was headed for an exit.
Sylvia finally noticed. “Get back here you filthy four-flusher and take your punishment like a man…er…squirrel.”
“Sylvia, it isn’t like you to behave like this. Whatever’s come over you? Come over here and let me feel your forehead. I want to see if you have a fever.”
“A fever!” she shouted. “Of course I have a fever. I have gold fever!” She began to sing as she dug at a huge rock that was probably holding up the house, “Gold fever. I’ve got gold fever. Gold fever’s coming over me.”
I must say the sound was horrible.
Unlike some of these columns, this one is absolutely true. It really happened. Spooky, isn’t it?
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