Animals have opinions.
Anyone who has ever been owned by a pet knows this. Cats have perfected the silent review. Dogs specialize in wounded disappointment. Birds can deliver editorial comments at full volume.
But wild critters?
Wild critters take things to another level.
My husband and I have been owned by many pets, but we have also, entirely without meaning to, coexisted with what we like to call our wild kingdom.
Since most of our married life has been spent in cities, I did not expect many wildlife encounters inside the house. Outside, yes. Inside, no.
I was mistaken.
The Woodpeckers in the Attic
The worst of our wild kingdom roommates were probably the woodpeckers who moved into our attic for a brief time.
Right above our bedroom.
At dawn.
That is a sound you do not forget. It is also a sound that makes you question every life choice that led to that exact roof, that exact bed, and that exact headache.
Still, even the woodpeckers could not compete with the squirrel.
The Squirrel in the Stove Vent
The Most Startling Houseguest Award goes to the squirrel who moved into the vent hood above our stove.
I did not know she was there at first.
The vent hood quit venting our cooking smells, but I did not give it much thought. Appliances can be cranky. Houses have quirks. Also, “squirrel in the vent hood” was not on my list of reasonable explanations.
Then one day I was cooking something or other, and the vent hood hissed at me.
Now, I will admit what I was cooking was not up to New Orleans standards.
But it was not that bad.
I tipped my head, looked closer, and noticed a little straw poking out around the edge of the filter.
Then I saw eyes.
My vent hood was looking at me.
When the Kitchen Appliance Looks Back
I may have screamed.
The details are fuzzy.
I do know I backed up until I could back up no more. The Hubs came running.
He got hissed at, too.
That helped. There is comfort in shared terror.
We removed the food we no longer wished to eat and discussed our options long enough for the stove elements to cool.
Then we made what I will call a tactical error.
I say “we,” even though the Hubs was the one who released the clamps on either side of the vent hood filter. Still, I did not stop him, so I must accept partial responsibility.
The filter came loose.
A lot of nasty crud fell out.
And a squirrel.
She did not fall all the way out. She clung to the vent hood motor, which had dropped down with everything else. So there she was, swinging gently above our stove, holding on to machinery and straw, her tail just brushing the stovetop.
I am still grateful the stove was not hot.
The Great Squirrel Removal Plan
For a while, we stared at her.
She stared at us.
No one looked pleased with anyone.
Then the Hubs backed away slowly and left me alone with our dangling kitchen critic while he went to get a box.
He eased the box under her, knocked her into it, slammed the lid shut, and carried her outside.
Success.
For about thirty seconds.
Before the Hubs could get back inside, the squirrel had re-entered the vent hood.
And fallen out again.
So we repeated the process.
This time, I re-secured the filter while the Hubs figured out how she was getting inside.
That was when he discovered her babies.
Which is how I knew our squirrel was a she.
A House Review From the Wildlife Department
It took a while before we managed to move the whole family out.
After that, I tried to up my game with the cooking.
Was the squirrel actually judging my food? Probably not.
Did it feel like my cooking had been reviewed by a wild animal living in my vent hood? Absolutely.
It was not the first time I felt judged by an animal, and it would not be the last.
Animals are not subtle critics. A cat can look at your clean laundry and make it feel inadequate. A dog can sigh like you personally ruined the afternoon. A squirrel can turn your stove vent into a nursery and then hiss at dinner.
Still, at least she did not leave a one-star review.
Pets, Critters, and Fictional Dragons
Have you ever been reviewed by a pet or wild critter?
Did you recover? Did you change your ways? Did you become a better cook?
In my short story “The Real Dragon,” Emma’s pet bearded dragon is part pet, part wild critter, and, in his own dragon way, all hero.
A little creature with a big personality can change a story fast. Apparently, the same is true in real life.
Here is a short excerpt:
“So, you’re not dating Ted?” Peddrenth broke into what had turned into a long silence.
It wasn’t that I’d run out of questions. I think I had maxed out my ability to process his answers. Here I sat in my bedroom, dealing with the fact that my dad was getting married again, my dragon had taken an accidental trip to space and back, and all I had were book boyfriends. I glanced around. And a bedroom that hadn’t been updated since that night. And who was Ted?
I started to ask, but then I remembered. The me before the accident had thought Ted might ask me to the senior prom. He hadn’t, of course. I’d been in the hospital with a concussion. And our “dating” had been as imaginary as my book boyfriends.
“No…I’m not dating Ted.”
From “The Real Dragon”