Mood:
smellyTopic: "WMD in the Shire"(6)
In the area behind the Shire there is a wilderness fed by the flotsam of garden cuttings, sedimentary subterranean discoveries, and cat litter (well, ya gotta put it someplace). Vines, fallen seeds, and whatever may blow in from the west gather there, and a eastern deciduous barrier to the outside offers special protection to the gardens of the Shire. Mr. Beau Neau McKitty patrols the fence as if he were Simba incarnate, and what lies beyond is his personal HDTV. This past year, Frodo was hard pressed to manage that which fell beyond this fence, so it is far less attractive than in days past, or to come. The impact has been a marked increase in the squirrel populace.
Frodo has, and is very successful with, a Hav-a-Hart trap with which, as he has explained before, he is able to relocate these tree rats to more appropriate surroundings (he particularly favors the football field of the High School of the Shire, from which mildly enraged squirrels take great sport in pursuing individual members of the marching band at practice). Because Frodo did not perform at his traditional peak levels of performance in this endeavor, there are far too many squirrels in the Shire, and his bird feeders are the site of frequent acts of thievery.
Frodo knows that the nests of the squirrel are built to withstand the cold, as well as a nursing point for the soon-to-be-delivered seasonal progeny. It would be cruel for Frodo to utilize the trap at this time of year. Frodo has, in the past, also utilized slingshots, stones, and tennis balls, among other thrown objects, in order to disperse the vigilantes from the bird feeders. Recently however, he came across a new weapon quite by accident, and he is utilizing it as his answer to chemical warfare.
The boomerang he found is an ancient tool, something that aborigines used for thousands of years in order to dominate an entire continent. To Frodo however, it is a dangerous weapon. He can't seem to guarantee that it will turn in the direction intended, or that it will return anywhere within the same county from which it was launched. The squirrels seem amused, if not wary.
Today, with Fiona in tow, Frodo took a shot or two with the boomerang at the culprits beyond the fence. While searching for his errant WMD, Frodo noted several young squirrels concentrated in a certain treetop high above a huge pile of leaves recently gathered there by the industrious Hobbit. As Frodo neared their perceived safety zone, he noted the first leapt from a tree limb into the pile of leaves, soon followed by one after the other until all had soft landed into the remnants of maple, elm, hickory, and dogwood, Then, and Frodo has no reason to exaggerate, the little buggers each climbed back up the same tree, and again leapt into the pile of leaves.
The little thieves were playing the same game that Frodo himself had played for decades. They were having a blast, for they weren't yet wise enough to immediately give up the game and seek shelter.
Frodo looked at Fiona, and Fiona looked at Frodo. Fiona ran when Frodo grabbed a handful of leaves and prepared to pop her right in the kisser with them. Then Fiona chased Frodo as he jumped feet-first into the pile of leaves. The squirrels sat in their tree and barked at Frodo for interrupting their game.
Eventually, Fiona and Frodo recouped the errant boomerang just outside the giant leafpile, and they headed back into the Shire. There is a chill in the air now, and the eve calls for two fingers of beverage, and a good book. Boomerang practice has been called for the morrow.
