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On the subject of squirrels........


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I ran across this in one of my file folders today and even tho it's an oldie, it's still hysterical so I thought I'd share. I seriously warn you to put down any beverages while you're reading this.


Neighborhood Hazard (or: Why the Cops Won't Patrol Brice Street)

I never dreamed slowly cruising through a residential neighborhood could be

so incredibly dangerous!

Good, accurate, and timely decisions are essential when riding a

motorcycle, at least if you want to remain among the living. In short, the

brain needs to keep up with the machine.

I had been banging around the roads of east Texas and as I headed back


Dallas, found myself in very heavy, high-speed traffic on the freeways.

Normally, this is not a problem, I commute in these conditions daily, but

suddenly I was nearly run down by a car that decided it needed my lane


than I did. This is not normally a big deal either, as it happens around

here often, but usually I can accurately predict which drivers are not

paying attention and avoid them before we are even close. This one I


seeing until it was nearly too late, and as I took evasive action I nearly

broadsided another car that I was not even aware was there!

Two bad decisions and insufficient situational awareness, all within


I was behind the power curve. Time to get off the freeway.

I hit the next exit, and as I was in an area I knew pretty well,

headed through a few big residential neighborhoods as a new route home. As


turned onto the nearly empty streets I opened the visor on my full-face

helmet to help get some air. I figured some slow riding through the quiet

surface streets would give me time to relax, think, and regain that "edge"

so frequently required when riding.

Little did I suspect.

As I passed an oncoming car, a brown furry missile shot out from

under it and tumbled to a stop immediately in front of me. It was a

squirrel, and must have been trying to run across the road when it

encountered the car. I really was not going very fast, but there was no


to brake or avoid it, it was that close.

I hate to run over animals and I really hate it on a motorcycle, but

a squirrel should pose no danger to me. I barely had time to brace for the


Animal lovers, never fear. Squirrels can take care of themselves!

Inches before impact, the squirrel flipped to his feet. He was

standing on his hind legs and facing the oncoming Valkyrie with

steadfast resolve in his little beady eyes. His mouth opened, and at the

last possible second, he screamed and leapt! I am pretty sure the scream


squirrel for, "Banzai!" or maybe, "Die you gravy-sucking, heathen scum!"


the leap was spectacular and he flew over the windshield and impacted me

squarely in the chest.

Instantly he set upon me. If I did not know better I would have sworn

he brought twenty of his little buddies along for the attack.

Snarling, hissing, and tearing at my clothes, he was a frenzy of

activity. As I was dressed only in a light t-shirt, summer riding

gloves, and jeans this was a bit of a cause for concern. This furry

little tornado was doing some damage!

Picture a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans,


t-shirt, and leather gloves puttering maybe 25mph down a quiet residential

street and in the fight of his life with a squirrel.

And losing.

I grabbed for him with my left hand and managed to snag his tail.

With all my strength I flung the evil rodent off the left of the

bike, almost running into the right curb as I recoiled from the


That should have done it. The matter should have ended right there.

It really should have. The squirrel could have sailed into one of the

pristinely kept yards and gone on about his business, and I could

have headed home. No one would have been the wiser.

But this was no ordinary squirrel.

This was an evil attack squirrel of death!

Somehow he caught my gloved finger with one of his little hands, and with

the force of the throw swung around and with a resounding thump and an

amazing impact he landed square on my back and resumed his rather

anti-social and extremely distracting activities. He also managed to take


left glove with him!

The situation was not improved. Not improved at all. His attacks were

continuing, and now I could not reach him.

I was startled to say the least. The combination of the force of the

throw, only having one hand (the throttle hand) on the handlebars,

and my jerking back unfortunately put a healthy twist through my

right hand and into the throttle. A healthy twist on the throttle of

a Valkyrie can only have one result. Torque. This is what the

Valkyrie is made for, and she is very, very good at it.

The engine roared as the front wheel left the pavement. The squirrel

screamed in anger. The Valkyrie screamed in ecstasy. I screamed in ? well I

just plain screamed.

Now picture a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in

jeans, a slightly squirrel torn t-shirt, and only one leather

glove roaring at maybe 70mph and rapidly accelerating down a quiet

residential street on one wheel and with a demonic squirrel on his back.


man and the squirrel are both screaming bloody murder.

With the sudden acceleration I was forced to put my other hand back on the

handlebars and try to get control of the bike. This was

leaving the mutant squirrel to his own devices, but I really did not

want to crash into somebody's tree, house, or parked car. Also, I had not

yet figured out how to release the throttle, my brain was just

simply overloaded. I did manage to mash the back brake, but it had

little affect against the massive power of the big cruiser.

About this time the squirrel decided that I was not paying sufficient

attention to this very serious battle (maybe he is a Scottish attack

squirrel of death), and he came around my neck and got IN my full-

face helmet with me. As the faceplate closed partway and he began

hissing in my face I am quite sure my screaming changed tone and

intensity. It seemed to have little affect on the squirrel however.

The rpm's on The Dragon maxed out (I was not concerned about shifting at

the moment) and her front end started to drop.

Now picture the large man on the huge black and chrome cruiser,

dressed in jeans, a very ragged torn t-shirt, and wearing one leather


roaring at probably 80mph, still on one wheel, with a large puffy squirrel's

tail sticking out his mostly closed full-face


By now the screams are probably getting a little hoarse.

Finally I got the upper hand I managed to grab his tail again, pulled

him out of my helmet, and slung him to the left as hard as I could.

This time it worked, sort-of. Spectacularly sort-of, so to speak.

Picture the scene. You are a cop. You and your partner have pulled

off on a quiet residential street and parked with your windows down

to do some paperwork.

Suddenly a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans,

a torn t-shirt flapping in the breeze, and wearing one leather glove,


at probably 80mph on one wheel, and screaming bloody murder roars by and

with all his strength throws a live squirrel grenade directly into your

police car.

I heard screams. They weren't mine...

I managed to get the big motorcycle under directional control and

dropped the front wheel to the ground. I then used maximum braking and

skidded to a stop in a cloud of tire smoke at the stop sign at a busy



I would have returned to fess up (and to get my glove back). I really

would have. Really. But for two things. First, the cops did not seem

interested or the slightest bit concerned about me at the moment. One of

them was on his back in the front yard of the house they had been parked


front of and was rapidly crabbing backwards away from the patrol car. The

other was standing in the street and was training a riot shotgun on the

police cruiser.

So the cops were not interested in me. They often insist to "let the

professionals handle it" anyway. That was one thing. The other? Well, I

swear I could see the squirrel, standing in the back window of the patrol

car among shredded and flying pieces of foam and upholstery, and shaking


little fist at me. I think he was shooting me the finger!

That is one dangerous squirrel. And now he has a patrol car!

I took a deep breath, turned on my turn-signal, made an easy right turn,

and sedately left the neighborhood.

As for my easy and slow drive home? Never mind. Faced with a choice of 80mph

cars and inattentive drivers, or the evil, demonic, attack squirrel of


..I'll take my chances with the freeway. Every


And I'll buy myself a new pair of gloves.

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That is hysterical! Now that we are plugging in the car we've had squirrels building nets on top of the air filter. Every time we go to have the oil changed, they find a nest in there. I see little footprints going to and from under the car.......little buggers!

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That is hysterical! Now that we are plugging in the car we've had squirrels building nets on top of the air filter. Every time we go to have the oil changed, they find a nest in there. I see little footprints going to and from under the car.......little buggers!

:congrats: This happened to me when I lived in the Shenandoah Valley of Virginia. Had trouble with the car cutting out on me. The friendly service station mechanic found teeth marks on the engine and missing wires. The silly squirrels were taking the wires!

I could just see Mrs. Squirrel up in the nest: "No, Seymour, I told you I wanted BLUE for the bedroom. This yellow wire just won't do."

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Since I ride a motorcycle every day, I can relate to this! That story has been around for at least 8 or 9 years now. I've come close to panic on two wheels a few times over the past 10 years.

Never had a close encounter with a squirrel, but in 2001 I was riding down Main Street in Gainesville behind some clueless wonder in a car who was pulling a trailer loaded with 3 mattresses. Problem was, they were standing on end, and unsecured. I could see where this was going so I backed off to what I thought was a safe distance. I was wrong. A few moments after assessing the situation, the first mattress went airborne and landed right in the middle of the lane and in front of me. I weaved around the right side of it just in time for the second mattress to take flight. This time I banked hard left and watched it sail past my right side. Number three just flopped out into the middle of the road. I got out of it without a scratch and the driver never even noticed that his load was missing. The driver of the car behind me told me at the next light that he was kicking himself for not getting the whole thing on film. It would have been great on AFV.

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We were riding our first tandem bicycle down the St Mark's Trail from Tallahassee to St Mark and had a kamikaze squirrel play "chicken" running between the front & rear wheels of the bike as we were peddling along. We installed a bike bell on my set of handlebars and found out that squirrels and other critters really respond to the percussion wave and get the he** out of the way!

They are rats with fluffy tails!
Tree rats. And rats are quite intelligent little critters, considering what tiny little brain-mass they have!
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I still get a smirk & a snicker whenever they run the insurance commercial where the squirrel causes the car to crash swerving to miss it, and then he & his liittle tree-rat buddy give each other high-fives.

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