Springing Into Action

Spring has officially sprung here in the Pacific Northwest.

Sunbeams abound. The temperature is a balmy 62 degrees. The flowers are blooming. The bird thingies are singing and busily building nests. Copper, the young goat thingy, is frolicking in the field. Prancing and dancing among the dandelions and grass that seem to have grown a foot overnight.

When the male two legger is not out cutting, trimming or manually ripping out every hint of chlorophyll bearing greenery, he is burning anything that could possibly be construed as meat upon his grill. The female is planting wheelbarrows of gaily colored flowers around the Outer Kingdom.

  Everywhere I look, I see signs of renewal and new life emerging after a long dreary Winter of wind, rain and general malaise.

This annoys me.

You may wonder why such a beautiful time of year should get my hairballs in a bunch.

I have my reasons.

First of all, the two leggers are devoting an inordinate amount of their day to grooming and beautifying my Outer Kingdom instead of paying attention to me. It seems that they'd rather be outside, digging in dirt, cleaning flowerbeds, burning meat and listening to bird thingies than spending time in my glorious presence. They have filled the bird feeders no fewer than 15 times in the last two days while only filling my food bowl a mere dozen times. I am being neglected! I do not exaggerate when I tell you that I have only been brushed four times in the last twelve hours.

I do not know how much longer I can tolerate this total disregard for my welfare.

As if this wasn't bad enough, the squirrel thingy has returned.

Since the two leggers cleaned and filled the bird feeders, the squirrel thingy has been stuffing his nasty little cheeks with a variety of seeds, nuts and corn. He then scampers back to his tree before returning for more. To make matters worse, he doesn't just return to his tree by the most direct route, no, he makes a twenty yard deliberate detour so that he passes right by the sliding door of my back deck. He always pauses and does a little "happy dance" before continuing on his way. He skitters in small circles, twitching his tail and grins at me through the screen.

The entire time this is happening, the two leggers go about their useless activities as if completely unaware of the fact that their High Poobah and Household Lord is being insulted and mocked by the treasonous rodent.

This is unacceptable.

I have expressed my displeasure through several acts of overt aggression. Two wine glasses, a picture frame and a dried flower arrangement have experienced my wrath. But to no avail. I have cursed the beastie, questioning its lineage, spouting a venomous diatribe that would make a feral blush with shame. And yet the torment continues.

I am left with no other choice. It is time to take drastic action.

Fortunately, I have been watching re-runs of MacGyver. This has taught me how to solve problems using only the materials at paw.

So last night I assembled almost all of the articles I will need to once and for all put an end to the squirrel thingy's ceaseless torment. I have a roll of duct tape, two rubber bands, 18 inches of silk ribbon, three forks, a spatula, 27 cents in loose change, a pillow case, three plastic milk jug rings, five paper clips and the cap from a beer bottle. Now there is only one thing left to procure before I can bring my plan to fruition.

Anyone have a tactical nuclear device I can borrow?