Man vs. Wild

This is a story took place years ago when I was still in middle school and has since then grown to become a favorite of my friends who find the story to fit perfectly with something that I would still do today. Regretfully, I can’t really argue against this point. This is how the story goes…

My parents had recently bought brand new garbage cans in an attempt to thwart some very determined squirrels from getting into the cans and scattering the garbage all over the driveway and the neighbor’s yard. The new garbage cans with their “innovative” locking lids seemed to be successful at first, there was no new garbage strewn about the driveway for what seemed like days. The squirrels were persistent and we soon began to notice claw and teeth marks on the lids of the cans. These scratches and gouges soon turned into gaping holes that the squirrels used to get in and out of the cans letting them return to their favorite pastime of spreading garbage all over the driveway. We never saw them come or go, we only saw the results of their escapades. That was all about the change one fateful morning.

I had off from school and my mom had compiled a list of chores that looked to me like enough evidence to get her charged with child labor. The first chore on the list was to take out the garbage, which was usually an unassuming task. The garbage cans are located right next to the side door of my house; making taking out the trash is a very simple. You open the door, turn immediately to the left and drop the garbage in the can.

On this fateful morning, when I opened the side door and turned to my left my eyes met with those of a squirrel. The squirrel quickly dove back into the hole in the lid of the can in a futile attempt to escape. At this point, I made what seemed to me to be the most logical decision possible for a 13 year-old boy. I decided to teach the squirrel a lesson.

I dropped the garbage back on the steps and proceeded to kick the side of the garbage can as hard as I could while yelling “DIE SQUIRREL!” I knocked the garbage can onto its side with all my strength and pounded on it, kicked it, rolled it tossed it up and down the driveway with vigor all while cursing up a storm and stringing profanities together into new and creative ways.

“Dumb Ass Motherfucker!”

“I’ll teach you Bitch!”

“Cock Ass Bitch Whore!”

“Bastard Bitch Mom!”

“Crap on your day!”

“Fuck you rodent bastard!”

“Rot in hell, you dick bitch!”

“Cock Rat!”

“You ass mongrel!”

“Ahhh…Fuuuuck…Die!”

I have no idea how long I pummeled the garbage can, but in my grand finale I raised the garbage can above my head, squirrel still inside, and spiked it on the ground with a triumphant roar. Now gasping for breath and standing over the seemingly defeated garbage can I looked down the length of the driveway towards the street to discover that my mailman had witnessed this whole bizarre act. The mail for my house in his hand, he stared at me with completely bewildered face. I don’t know how much he had witnessed, but by the expression on his face, he had seen enough to come to the conclusion that I was certifiably insane.

Realizing the man who delivers the mail to my house every day had witnessed what looked like an act of blind rage upon an inanimate object, I felt the need to try and justify what he had just seen. In all my infinite wisdom as a 13 year-old boy I said in a crackling voice, “There is a squirrel in there and I’m trying to scare it.” The look of bewilderment still on his face, he nodded to me and proceeded to put the mail in our mailbox and walk away.

Feeling like a total fool I looked down at the garbage can with a look of defeat only to see the squirrel run out of the garbage can and up a tree entirely unharmed.