Around noon yesterday, I spied a squirrel lying on the garage roof. Later in the afternoon, he was still there, in the exact same strange, awkward position – sprawled out flat, not moving. Mid-day, I wondered if he was resting, but by evening, I assumed he was dead.
When Don got home, it was already dark, so I told him that the next time we were both home in daylight hours (umm…. Thursday? Maybe Friday?), we would have to go get the thing off the roof. This would involve the ladder (fun!) and shovel. That shovel – which came with the house – has done its fair share of animal removal duties, including Gus the Groundhog and the presumably rabid (or just plain batty) squirrel that spent an entire day twitching itself ten feet across the driveway, driving the cat nutty.
But this morning, in daylight, the squirrel is gone. I’ll bet our friendly neighborhood raccoons took care of it for us. Thanks, guys! You’re finally good for something besides scaring the bejeezus out of us when we deign to enter the backyard in the evenings.
Update: Don says that he actually heard the raccoons fighting it out over the squirrel carcass. Yum.