Crazy Squirrel

I'm not quite sure what's up with the squirrels in St. Louis Hills. I don't know if it's from the lead paint in their acorns as little infant squirrels or what, but they are certifiably nuts.

As I sat eagerly awaiting the next hour of Jack Bauer surviving bathtub electrocution, a fire ant attack and eating Crown Candy hot fudge while wearing dentures, I heard some visitor tapping at my chamber door. Okay, so it was the window. But when I sprang from the chair to see what was the matter, I saw three of the four Dings staring intently at their arch-enemy - a small squirrel perched on the window sill loudly gnawing on the window caulking. His rabies infested mouth was a mere three inches from my face as we were separated only by a thin pane of glass. He was fully aware of the Dings and me, yet he continued to gnaw unabated.

What's that about? Was he sharpening his teeth? Did he think it was a salt lick? Was he trying to send a hate-filled message to the Dings so that they'd live in fear of him and his kind? Or was he simply trying to break in to steal my Lady Gaga CD? I want answers.

In the chaos, I was able to snap a not-so-great photo of the window caulk licking squirrel.