He: Damn.
She: What’s wrong, dear?
She: The squirrel? He’s back?
He: It appears he never left. For two years it must have been the squirrel that was rummaging through the back yard, knocking things over and bugging Tulip. She tries to get him by digging under the shed. The squirrel probably lives under there. He makes a mess in my gardens. I thought he’d moved on or gotten eaten by coyotes. I hadn’t seen him in a long time. But a minute ago I just saw him having a drink out of the pool. A nice, long, cool drink. The guy really bugs me.
She: Sounds personal.
He: Oh, it’s personal all right.
She: Got a plan?
He: I got a plan. And that jerk, the squirrel, is going down!
She: Good luck, there, Dog the Squirrel Hunter!
He: Funny. We’ll see who’s laughing tomorrow.
The next day.
He: She! She! Come quick!
She: I’m coming. What’s all the yelling about!
He: I got him!
She: You got a twin?
He: No! I got him! The squirrel. I got the squirrel. See the cage? The fool walked in there. I baited the trap with a peanut butter sandwich I made for him last night. Who’s your daddy, now, punk?
She: Oh, my.
He: Any more jokes about Dog the Squirrel Hunter now, miss?
She What are you going to do with him?
He: I thought I’d take him to school. The place is like a park. It’ll be like a retirement home for him. Sun City. Just the squirrel and the pigeons. And French fries.
She: And the feral cats.
He: He’ll be fine with the cats.
She: No, he won’t. They’ll kill him and eat him.
He: I could throw him in the pool and give him swimming lessons like your uncle does with raccoons at the lake.
She: Look how scared he is.
He: Do not give me that look!
She: What look? The poor little squirrel is probably scared half to death.
He: That’s not half bad.
She: You can’t take him to school and you can’t drown him.
He: I knew it was a mistake to call you out here.
She: He probably has a mother somewhere.
He: Oh, brother. Do you have to look at me like that?
She: Seriously. Suppose our son was in a trap like that?
He: Besides it being somewhat of a tight fit, I don’t really remember that he ever liked peanut butter sandwiches. So, no.
She: It’s Mother’s Day weekend. Do it for all mothers everywhere.
He: Do you just make this stuff up? How do people live like this?
She: Please.
He: What did I tell you about that look? Ok. Ok. Gee. I’ll make a deal with you. I’ll let him go, but that’s the gift for Mother’s Day this year. No sappy cards. No hour wait fighting the crowds at a restaurant. No movie where everyone in the theatre is crying their eyes out. Deal?
She: Deal. And thank you.
He: There you go, you flea-bitten piece of shit. Run free!
She: Fast little guy, isn’t he? He looked very happy.
He: I hope you’re happy. I know he is.
She: I’ll be even happier when you take me out to dinner for Mother’s Day.
He: No way. We had a deal. That was the Mother’s Day gift.
She: Maybe that was the Mother’s Day gift for the squirrel’s mother but I never would have agreed to that for me.
He: I don’t believe you. Really. You’re too much.
She: Go take a shower. I’m getting hungry and you smell like squirrel, Dog.
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