True Story Tuesday--There's Something ON Me!

Yes, indeed, it's time again for True Story Tuesday, and I'm in a better mood this week! Even after trying in vain to take a picture of myself that didn't show wrinkles in need of heavy spackling, I'm peppy and ready to go. Yay, me! Once you're done here, please head over to Rachel's blog for her true story and links to more. And, if you can think of a good one yourself, make sure to link up and play along!

This story happened when I was about 7 months pregnant with the Bug Hunter. It was November, and I was getting big. I've had carpal tunnel syndrome since I was in my early 20's, and it had really flared up by this point in my pregnancy. In fact, it had gotten so bad that I was sleeping on a patio lounge chair so that I could hang my hands off of both sides. That was the only way that I could sleep without the pain and numbness in my hands keeping me awake. It was sometime after midnight, and I was suddenly awake; I didn't know why. It seemed as if something had moved, but then I decided that the baby must have kicked me, so I started to drift back to sleep. I was almost out when I felt it again, and it was NOT a baby kicking, nor was it a dream. SOMETHING was walking up my leg! I reached down, felt fur, and screamed bloody murder. Poor, poor hubby shot up out of bed and knocked the lamp off of the table; finally, he got a light on, all the while calling my name and asking what was wrong. I had heaved my bulk up and was kneeling on the lounge chair, screaming "There's something on me!". Hubby was so patient; he was just certain that I had a bad dream. I could tell that he was trying really hard not to upset the pregnant woman, but I would have none of it; there was SOMETHING in that room, and I was going to find it. I didn't see anything obvious, so I (somehow) got down on my hands and knees and looked under the bed. I could see eyes staring back at me from the other end, against the wall. Looking at the southbound end of a northbound, kneeling, screaming pregnant woman probably would have been funny, IF it wasn't your wife, in your bedroom, at probably 2:00 a.m. Hubby finally managed to find a flashlight and shine it under the bed; a flying squirrel was cowering against the wall, and those huge eyes were even larger than normal. By now, I was STANDING on top of the bed, afraid that the darn thing would run out and race back up my body. We were trying to figure out what to do, short of packing up and heading to a hotel for the night, when I said "I sure wish Bash (our cat, who was an amazing hunter) could get the darn thing!" We looked at each other and you could see the lightbulbs go on over both of our heads. I waddled to the garage to get the cat while hubby stood guard to keep the squirrel from escaping into the rest of the house. When I brought Bash back to the bedroom, he gave me a very annoyed look for dragging him off of his warm cushion, until I lifted the dust ruffle and let him look under the bed. He crouched, tail swishing, but he wasn't about to go under there; it was too low. We finally got a yardstick and flushed the squirrel out; Bash pounced, it ran, and the chase was on. I honestly felt like Ray Stevens should have been there; he'd have been able to write a sequel to his "Mississippi Squirrel Revival" song, right then and there. Around the room they raced, with me back on top of the bed, and for a while, I thought the squirrel might win. But finally, Bash had it cornered; we grabbed him and dropped a shoebox over the squirrel. Slipping the top under the box, we were able to get it outside and safely back into the woods. Bash, on the other hand, wouldn't speak to me for most of the next day, no matter how many treats I bribed him with. He finally came around, and I sure was grateful for his help. I'm still not sure what possessed that squirrel to come back to the bedroom, or even how he got in. But in looking back, I think maybe God was trying to prepare me for the Bug Hunter and his Jeff Corwin tendencies. Since then, I've had one baby flying squirrel and two tree squirrels that I've nursed and raised for a little while, and I wouldn't even flinch, much less scream, if a squirrel got in the house now. See?