Since we have moved into the city, I have called 911 twice. The first time was when someone was trying to break into our neighbor’s house. Then last week, I heard a terrible booming sound and looked down the street to see a city bus entangled with a car, an SUV and an iron fence. When I told my boys I needed to call 911, my oldest exclaimed, “Again?” and I told him to get used to it.
Today as I was reading my Bible…seriously, I was… and it was good (no pun intended), I heard something at my back door. The break-ins in our neighborhood usually occur via the back doors, so I was getting nervous. The footsteps sounded close and then I heard some rummaging. We have old lockers on our back porch, with nothing in them except random things the boys collect, but nonetheless I didn’t want someone rummaging in them or looking in the windows. So I slooowly reached for the phone, holding it in my hand with a finger on the 9, I crept to the back door to take a peek before dialing. When I stood up to see over the cafe blinds we have on the window of the back door, I didn’t see a thing. Yet I still heard the rummaging and then some scrambling. I looked down and there, rummaging around the lockers, was a fat squirrel. So glad I didn’t call 911 to report him because I’m sure he would have been gone by the time the cops came.
A few minutes ago, I heard the sound again and thought maybe Mr. Squirrel was back for round two. But the sound was a little different. I couldn’t quite make out what it was. Just in case, I grabbed the phone again but didn’t bother putting my finger on the 9 this time. I looked down where the squirrel had been and no sign of him. Just as I was starting to relax, a robin flew from the top of the lockers right at the door. Stupid bird. Nearly killed himself, and made me pee in my pants… almost.
It’s still taking some time to get used to all this city business. Clearly the squirrels and the birds do not keep to the suburbs like some may think. They’re here, too. They’re just a little bolder here. They have to learn how to live on the streets and how to make a living off of rotten candy in lockers and pieces of paper from old science projects. Some of my neighbors do have nice bird feeders but I’ve noticed that these critters are more ghetto and prefer the taste of whatever is on the back porch at our house at the moment.
So I’m putting my phone down and I’m going to start going about the rest of my day, and if I get some time, maybe I’ll put a little peanut butter and sunflower treat in the backyard for my furry and feathered friends so they don’t have to scare me half to death anymore by all their rummaging and foraging next to my back door.