It’s not a statue.
It’s alive!
“Oh no.”
“Is that—?” Mindy gasps.
“The town mascot,” I finish weakly.
“Therealtown mascot,” Pauline clarifies. “Not Cody in the furry Gus suit.”
The squirrel chatters aggressively, glassy eyes fixed on me with what I can only describe as malicious intent. It’s bigger than I expected—maybe ten inches from head to tail of pure fury covered in reddish-brown fur.
“Okay. It’s fine. I’ve got this.” I step slowly into my office. “Hey there, little guy. You seem lost. Let’s get you back outside where you belong?—”
The squirrel throws an acorn at my face and lands a direct hit right between my eyes.
“Ow!”
It chatters again, sounding distinctly like laughter.
“That’s it.” I grab my wastebasket to trap it. “Time to go, buddy.”
I approach carefully, basket extended like a shield. The squirrel watches me with the stillness of an enemy soldier calculating projectile trajectories.
When I lunge, it leaps straight over the basket, bounces off my filing cabinet, and lands on top of my windowsill.
“Comeon!”
I try the broom next. Bad idea. The squirrel runsupthe broom handle, across my arm, and perches on my shoulder like a pirate’s parrot.
Swallowing back a full-body tremble, I freeze. “Mindy?”
“Yes?”
I speak slowly, “There is a squirrel on my shoulder.”
“I can see that.”
“What do I do?” I whisper.
“Don’t. Move.”
Too late. The squirrel leaps off, scattering my carefully organized sticky notes across the floor like confetti, and barricades itself under the legs of my swiveling desk chair.
“That’s it. I’m calling for backup.” I grab my phone and dial.
“911, what’s your emergency?”
“I have a wildlife situation.”
“Ma’am, is someone injured?”
“My dignity!” I practically shout.
“Please describe your emergency,” a calm voice asks.
“There’s a squirrel in my office and it’s—it just threw another acorn! It’sarmed!”
