The first time it was loud scratching that pulled me from a deep sleep. Before I could nudge my husband awake and turn on the lamp, the terrified squirrel had jumped from the wall near the bed to a wall further away. I watched him rapidly scale the reclaimed barn wood of our cabin bedroom loft. By first light, our patience and brooms had prevailed. We guided him toward an open door, relieved that he ran toward the nearest Lodgepole pine.
The second time we were sleeping with a squirrel, it was more unsettling. We were away on business and got a call from the person looking after our house. He said he’d encountered a frantic squirrel in our house when he arrived to check it.
Realizing a squirrel was with us the night before we left, I found frightening. I’d (continue reading →)