Jen left a comment on yesterday's post and it reminded me of my favorite chipmunk story--and when I searched this blog, I didn't find it. I'm amazed that I never wrote this down, so here goes:
I have talked a lot about the critters we have in our yard--AND house--and what has caused some of the most frustration for me is the chipmunks. When we first moved to this house, we thought it was cute to feed the buggers. And they became so tame that they would climb into your lap to be hand fed. The Oldest was just a toddler at the time, so I figured THAT wasn't a good thing and we stopped the feedings. Of course--as I said in the last post--they just helped themselves from the bird feeders, so they reproduced like crazy. You know those nature shows that have prairie dogs in them? Where you see their little heads popping out of the holes? That's pretty much what our backyard is like, only with chipmunks. And, of course, they get in the house and eat our gardens. They drive us crazy and have done so for far too many years.
One day when The Youngest was still at home, she had had enough of the chipmunks. All summer long the feeders had to be filled daily, the birds weren't coming to the feeders hardly at all, and the chipmunks were LAUGHING at us whenever we 'shooed' them. After a day of yelling, banging on the window, and doing whatever else she could think of to scare the critters, The Youngest decided to start throwing things at the little rodent. The chipmunk DUCKED when she threw things at it and went right back to filling its pouches with sunflower seed. The more the chipmunk defied her, the more incensed The Youngest became. Finally, with her face as red as Santa's suit, she screamed, "I AM going to get that thing!" and went running out the door with the spray bottle full of water. She got within two feet of the chipmunk and, like a gunslinger from the Old West, pulled out the bottle, aimed, and fired directly in the chipmunk's face/body. (They are small, so the spray went everywhere.) I watched from the breakfast nook window, so I can swear this is the truth: Instead of running away from the water, the chipmunk sat up and raised it's arm and started cleaning its pits. Yes, she gave him a much-needed shower instead of scaring him off. To say The Youngest was thisclose to going postal, is putting it mildly. I thought the poor thing was going to have a stroke, she was so mad. And I laughed until I peed myself. :D
That would be my favorite chipmunk story.