Day 67: I Have Bought Some Inhumane Rodent Traps

And still the squirrels come despite exorcism, local authority pest control and voodoo. They don't actually do much, as it goes, except kill the pretty red squirrels, qwack, spread the bubonic plague and get on my tits, so maybe I should let it go. Still, this morning was Typical:

Fig. 1: Seen out of front window whilst checking electronic mail. Sits still; is joined by Squirrel Friends; runs away qwacking like a duck.















Fig. 2: I move from the front window to the back window (a journey of seconds; this is a one bedroom flat in Brixton, not a 3-bed Barratt Home in Northampton), and see this little fucker nonchalantly scratching his ear.












Coming Soon: EPISODE ONE: I awake to find my flat carpeted with squirrels that have found their way in via the chimney pot. EPISODE TWO: I invite friends and family round for luncheon. Opening the oven to remove the hearty stew I have prepared from seasonal vegetables and cheap cuts of meat, I find a nesting Squirrel Family, including Mama, Papa and five Baby Squirrels. My luncheon is delayed; the RSPCA arrive; I am arrested on a charge of animal cruelty.