Liberté de Squirrel
So, I'm standing on my roof, measuring the distance from to the ground by dropping a rope, and wondering, "What is one unit squirrel length?"

A little bit of backstory. This morning, our dogs started freaking out when they heard squirrels running down our roof. That's not really unusual, the squirrels know the dogs can't get up there, so they taunt the dogs from the roof.

However, we suddenly hear a scrabbling thump coming from our chimney. The dogs are there in an instant, barking at the empty chimney. My wife and I know that the flume is closed, so there's no chance that the squirrel is going to get in, so we wait a bit, and let the dogs sniff around the chimney as much as they want.

From the sporadic bursts of scrabbling, scratching noises, we quickly determine that the squirrel is trapped in there. He's not going anywhere. We briefly consider trying to trap it. I got the brilliant idea of taking all the cardboard boxes we've been storing, and building a tunnel from the chimney to the door, which the squirrel could run through. My wife just shakes her head at that, and tells me to call Animal Rescue. She says,"They know how to deal with this kind of thing."

When I get through to them, and explain the situation, the person at Animal Rescue says, "Oh, that's an easy one. Just throw down a rope ladder."

I stop and cock my head to one side, still holding the phone to my ear. After a brief pause, I say, "Um. I don't think I have a rope ladder."

She says, "Just get a length of knotted rope, and drop it down the chimney from your roof. The squirrel will climb the rope, and get out."

"Okay, but you do realize we're getting into candid camera territory now, right? I mean, I'm not being Punk'd here, am I?"

So here I stand on my roof, looking down the inky blackness of my chimney (I removed the apparently useless squirrel-proof top). Steve (for narative purposes, I have named the squirrel Steve McQueen), is apparently huddling in the shadows, waiting for the guards to leave before trying once more to scale the wall.

I'm knotting the rope at six-inch increments, which I guess is one unit squirrel length, while whistling the tune from "Bridge on the River Kwai". Then I drop the rope, and wait to see if Steve reacts.

Steve's not stupid. Until I identify myself properly as a member of the French resistance, he's not gonna take any chances with my offer of liberation. So, I leave him alone, and go back inside. At some point, isolation and fear will force him to risk liberation, and hopefully tomorrow I can bring the rope back in.
- posted by BrandG @ 11:44 AM