The first weekend in our new house, it rained the most I've ever seen. We were sitting on the couch and we noticed water dripping inside the fireplace. UM? Not good. So we called the landlord and he sent someone out to "fix the problem". The next day they completely sealed off the top so rain wouldn't get in. He said with a thick southern drawl, "Well, I took care of y'alls problem. Sealed it right up! If y'all hear something thumping around then ya know I probably trapped a squirr-ell or a bird up in there...Har har har".
Flash forward two days and we're sitting in the living room, listening to a very active squirr-ell fight for it's life in our dark and wet chimney. Awesome, right? That's some good ol' southern entertainment for you right there. Except that really, it's so sad. I hate that there's nothing we can do but wait for it to die. I even talked to the same contractor who trapped him in there and he said, "Well, call me when something starts smellin' real bad and we'll take care of it then".
I'm usually not a rodent lover but I can't even let myself think about that fireplace and how that squirrel might be feeling because it totally bums me out. If he was meant to die, it should have been from eating too many acorns or the best poisonous berries he's ever tasted- not accidentally stuck in some chimney with no food or light! Poor thing.
To make light of the situation Garrison takes control via text:
G: Having gross flashbacks of this now....super yuck.
Me: Of dead squirrel smells in our living room?
G: Yeah...I bet it will be nutty.