Well the past few days we have been spent chasing out varmint.  John spent hours at the hardware store pouring over traps, poisons and other violent methods of disposing of "it".  Meanwhile the little devil chewed through more boat wires, proceeded to leave cute little foot prints on the windowsill and nose prints on the window, and poop (everywhere).  It's a smart little thing.  On Saturday, Sunday and Monday, the little guy set off all the traps and ate all the peanut butter without dying.  By today i figured it had a better chance of dying from a heart attack, from the peanut butter, than it did of being trapped.  I gave john a deadline of Friday morning to catch it before I called in the professionals.  I think i offended some male ego thing because he spent quite a while out in the garage today.  All the traps were rearranged and reloaded and I was assured he would be a goner....we'll see.  Here are some of the devices John used to subdue his victim.  As much as he wanted to poison the little sucker, he didn't want a decaying animal in the bottom of his boat. 

When I left to pick up the kids today I heard, rattle,rattle, rattle and I knew we had caught our vandal.  I walked around the corner and low and behold there was Poochi, as Emma has named it.   I had to let her name it she wanted to keep it!! 

John and Mark let the little guy go at the park today, miles and miles from our house.  Besides John and the damage to his boat,  the only trauma left by the event was Emma.  Mark apparently learned at a ranger talk at the Grand Canyon that squirrels were the most dangerous animal at the Grand Canyon.  Why?  because they carry fleas which carry Bubonic Plague!  So he shared this with Emma and she worried all night that we would all die of the plague.  So much for happy endings.
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