People keep asking about Frappy's car keys. I've sent a few e-mails and have said what happened in the comments to that post but not everyone re-reads the comment sections, so here you go!
I was going to have Double Shot get them down when I brought him home. However, they were not there when we pulled up. For a moment we wondered if the Demonic Squirrel Murdering Raven swept down and carried them off... No. Frappy got the ladder out and climbed up there herself when NO ONE WAS HOME. I wasn't happy and asked her what she would have done if she had fallen, to which she replied, "I didn't."
Wondering about the Demonic Squirrel Murdering Raven now? Well, back at the beginning of the summer I heard a racket outside. It was around noon. Two gigantic black ravens were circling over our next door neighbor's house and then dive bombing a squirrel in their tree. Our squirrel, Rusty. Yes, we name the wild critters that flit about our home. We've seen him run along the back of our fence with insulation from our other next door neighbor's attic to make some nest in the other (the site of the attack) neighbor's back yard. Wouldn't that make him their squirrel... no. We named him and we claimed him. He was free to sleep where he chose. And make babies with Gwendoline on the top of their shed. Yeah, we saw that too, along with a few of their lover's tiffs. Anyway, he was a tough squirrel. He stayed on the very same branch and defended himself against the two ravens. Double Shot and I watched the battle rage for nearly 20 minutes and Rusty was victorious. From that day forward he became, "Rusty the Great and Mighty Bad Ass Warrior Squirrel," in my mind.
The summer wore on. We went on vacation to Seattle and came home. Rusty was still cruising about. We didn't see as much of Gwendoline but she showed up here and there so I figured she was busy doing, hopefully, motherly things and didn't have the time for little romantic rendezvous a top the shed. For which I was grateful.
About a week after we got home we were awakened at 3 am by terrible and unsettling sounds. Because of what Double Shot and I had witnessed, I knew immediately what terror was afoot. We couldn't really see anything but the thrashing about in the tree. It didn't sound good and it went on for some time. Rusty fought long and hard but in the end his loud squirrel cries weakened and then we heard his neck snap. I am sorry for the graphic nature of this post. But Rusty the Great and Mighty Bad Ass Warrior Squirrel deserves to be known for his bravery. Later, in the early morning light, there was no sign of Rusty or any ravens. There were, however, several broken branches hanging solemnly from the tree. I could sense the tree's sorrow as it slouched, defeated and also wounded. I know the tree was Rusty's friend and sought to protect him.
We've not seen Gwendoline since that terrible day. We hope that she was whisked away by Rusty's fellow squirrel warriors to somewhere else in this kingdom that is our neighborhood. We hope that there is a little Rusty Jr. and that he is being schooled in the way of his father and that he will also arise to be great and mighty.
As for the Demonic Squirrel Murdering Raven... I keep Double Shot's fully loaded Air Soft pellet gun handy. I hope to shoot him in the eye one day.
I'm going to go take my medication now.