I came upstairs into my bedroom to find it had become a sniper's perch. The nightstand had been pushed away from the window and a BB gun was propped up against the wall nearby. A carton of ammo sat where the vase of fake flowers had been. The window was open with a nice view to the rotting eave overhead, where a couple of squirrels had squeezed through and taken up residence in our attic.
Apparently, "Jack Bauer" (a.k.a. Tom) had been staking out the intruders. The squirrels had been making a racket up there (directly over our bed), starting early in the morning and partying until night. They would occasionally pop out the hole in the eave and sit there, surveying the yard like lords of the manor.
Just FEET from our bedroom window. Well within range.
Seeing the gun, the ammo and the open window, I knew instantly that my dear husband had gone undercover to Take. Them. Out.
I found Jack in the CTU headquarters downstairs. That would be the kitchen.
I confronted him about his tactics. He sputtered a little bit and then managed to convince me that popping the critters with a BB gun would be far better than poisoning them and having them die in the attic. Besides, they eat electrical wires and could start a fire by shorting them out. They might be cute, but they are not good houseguests. Little hooligans.
"Were you wearing "camo?" I teased.
"Nah," he said, but then added sheepishly, "But it's a good thing you didn't see me laying across the hood of the car, waiting for one to run over the roof to the tree! I had to wait FOREVER for him to appear." I could just picture my 46 year old man in sniper position on top of the Saturn.
Sadly, he wasn't able to get a good shot off and had to abandon his post.
Too bad we didn't have Chloe O'Brien to use infrared heat-sensors to locate the critters and then download the information to his cell phone so he could know exactly when they would be headed his way.
Backup arrived when the schoolbus let G.T. off at 4:30. He became aware of the renegade squirrels when one ran across the wall outside while he was enjoying an after-school snack. He sprung into action, tracking it to the bushes out front. He grabbed the gun and poked around. The squirrel suddenly jumped out and made a break for it.
Mr. Squirrel climbed a tree and became a sitting duck for the teenage sharp-shooter. With a pop from the BB gun, he got mad and started scolding. Then, as the BB's whizzed past him, he took off running for the woods.
"Man, I didn't know squirrels could run that fast!" G.T. said later, in his debriefing.
Jack made sure that Mrs. Squirrel was gone from the attic, then nailed up some siding to close the hole.
It has been great not to wake up to the sound of gnawing and cavorting in the attic.
Now, if we could just take care of those mockingbirds outside the window at 5 a.m.....