Wednesday, February 15, 2006

The Flying TurkeyRat

Dear Friends:

I was preparing to retire last night when I heard the distinct sound of a squirrel chewing on something in the attic over my bedroom. Ordinarily I object to wildlife taking up quarters in my immediate vicinity, so I went to investigate.

My original plan was to enlist Matt's help and pretend to carry on a conversation in the den to avoid suspicion, while simultaneously sneaking outside to have Matt flush the squirrel out onto the roof whereupon I would pick him off with my trusty pellet gun. The plan looked great drawn out in crayon. Matt, however, was unable to assist due to the sudden surprise appeareance of Rick Flair on the Monday Night WWE Wrestlemania Smackdown. The sound of the melee was so profound that I was forced to exit the den and forge ahead on my own.

So, quite alone, clad only in bravado and boxer shorts, toting my trusty Benjamin Pump rifle I made my way to the attic in search of adventure.

I stuck my head up through the drop-down stairs and panned my excessively-large flashlight around. Nothing. Back around (mimicing a searchlight). Nothing. Back around again and I spotted red eyes glowing at my from a startlingly close distance. There sat a huge norway rat on a beam about 8 feet away eyeballing me like I owed him money*. This critter had actually climbed up on a beam to get a better look at me. He was sizing me up and sported a really indignant look on his face, as if I had interrupting something important with all my clattering around. I looked to my left and realized the entire attic is now tiled in large, dark-hued feathers. All I could think was "How did this thing drag a flock of turkeys into my attic without the neighbors noticing?"

Then it came to me - this furry little beast had EATEN ALL of my turkey fans (I've been storing them to mount in a shadow box) from my last 3 years of turkey hunting. He ate the base off the feathers, the beards, the legs, AND the spurs. It looks like a flock of kamikazee turkeys exploded in my attic. Solid turkey feathers from end to end. Everywhere. In impossible places. Destined to remain for all time. We will come to be known as the "turkey house" on River Springs Court.

I hefted my old Benjamin Pump, lined up the sights, and let him have it. Before I had time to reload the miniature carnivore roared like a tiny lion and CHARGED me! Fortunately it was a perfect heart shot so he ran out of steam before I was mauled.

I'd estimate him at about .25lbs with a 5" tail and 1" tusks. A wallhanger. Once we get him back from the taxidermist I'll have everyone over.

In the meantime - beware the flying turkeyrat.


*"like I owed him money" borrowed from Robert Ruark's writings on Cape Buffalo in Africa. Thanks Robert.

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