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I have been told that when off-continent tourists come to Toronto they are really fascinated by the city’s wildlife. Mainly the squirrels.

Now having to coexist with the damn things, I can only appreciate this in concept. After the release of the movie ‘UP’, “squirrel!” has come to mean “distraction of an irresistible nature”. Before the film, it simply meant “pain in the ass”.

As cute as they are, don’t be sucked in. Squirrels eat everything you hold dear if they can get their furry little paws on it. My husband started polishing up my old BB gun after a squirrel bit the heads off all our Asian lilies the day they were about to bloom (I’m sure it was revenge for us chasing him from the birdfeeder).

Now having finished complaining, I did needle-felt this. I guess I have a soft spot.

After all, how can you truly despise a creature that eats so much at this time of year, they look like little black and gray pumpkins rolling across the tops of the fences. Not only will food scraps twice their size somehow get carried off, but they also take rubbish to stuff in their nests.

In fact right now the only thing fatter then the squirrels are the feral cats. Yes, they are feral, even though they look like well fed tabbies. They sit on my lawn and lick the squirrel residue from between their pointy claws. I watch these sleek monstrosities as they prowl through gardens, barely having to exert themselves for their next meal. They weren’t here a couple of years ago but soft city living is what brought in the squirrels, and I guess the predators figured the system out too. Sorry squirrels, life’s a bitch.

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