Oh the thrills of daily life never cease to amaze me.
Yesterday was day one of grass cutting for the week. I know it may not make much sense to some (including my dear husband to which none of my actions seem to make much sense) but I always split the grass up into two days of fun. Front one day, the back the other. I push them both and bag the back, so it's quite a chore. And I just can't bear to do it all in one day. So yesterday, I did the front. When I woke up this morning, I knew I had to do the back.
I put on my bathing suit (yes - I will cut the back while behind the fence in a bathing suit), got all my stuff in order, and rounded the kids up to go out back. They were planning on swimming and playing while I cut the grass. Until....
David called me over to the pool and said, "There's a dead squirrel in the pool."
Surely not. There was no one here but me, and surely I wasn't going to have to deal with a dead furry mammal in the pool. Surely. But as I peeked over the edge, I could see it was true. There really was a dead squirrel at the bottom of the shallow end right near the wall. Almost as though he had made it over to the side but couldn't figure out how to get out. Luckily he wasn't bloated up and looking crazy. None the less, he was dead, and he was in the bottom of my pool, and I had to figure out how to get him out.
Not exactly how I planned to spend any amount of time today. Suddenly, the grass cutting chore I so loathe looked like fun in comparison to animal corpse retrieval.
Of course, I called Scott. I don't know why, but maybe somewhere in the back of my mind I thought there might be a chance he knew someone with a helicopter and he'd just say to me, "Oh, dear, sweet, precious wife - don't you fret about the little squirrel. I'll fly in in a jiffy to save your day. I'll get that pesky squirrel out of the pool for you." But, no such luck. There would be no knight in shindig armour coming in to save the day this time. I was totally on my own.
I told the kids to stand back. And then I made Buddy back up, and I told him that I just knew he had something to do with this whole squirrel thing. And I got the net that is intended to fish bugs and leaves and the occasional stray golf ball from the pool - not dead animals. There was a part of me that was afraid once I lifted him out of the water the little squirrel would gasp for air and then attack me. Weird to think, I know - but squirrels just really freak me out. Birds and squirrels, I just think, in general, should not be trusted. They just seem shady to me.
Anywho - I took the net and gave him a little nudge under the water just to be certain, you know, that he wasn't some sort of aquatic squirrel. He wasn't. He was definitely dead. And I almost barfed when I started to lift him out, but I somehow held it together. And then I took him to the back edge of the yard and chunked him over the fence into the wooded area behind our house. When I chunked him, he actually hit a tree and ricocheted off it. It just didn't seem right to do that to a squirrel, but what little bit of compassion I might have had for him was gone because he had died in my pool.
David said, "Oh, wow... he's frozen."
"No, dear David. He's dead."
So then I told the kids they couldn't swim today. Not gonna swim in the water that the dead furry animal was in until the super-chlorinate cycle has gone through.
After my squirrel incident, I had the pleasure of scooping mounds of dog feces out of the grass in preparation of cutting and bagging two humongous contractor size bags full of grass.
A day in the life of my charmed suburban life.
(Side note - hope anyone who reads this knows that I do greatly appreciate my charmed life. I am so lucky to live in a great house with a pool in the back and have great kids and a wonderful dog. However, I am incredibly honest enough to admit that it sure would be nice to be charmed enough to not have to cut your own grass and remove dead animals from said pool. Just sayin'.)