Prologue: We had a bad ant problem in the downstairs bathroom this summer so I went all Caddy Shack on their asses.
Today I go out onto the front porch & discover a little red squirrel trying to feast on one of the plastic ant traps I'd left near the door. He's as adorable & innocent as a Disney squirrel, turning the toxic thing & chewing on it, unaware of what he does...
Crooning, "Oh no, honey, that's no good for you..." I walk towards him trying to get him to drop it. He does drop it but scrambles to recover the fumbled danger and scampers up the backside of a tree.
In my bare feet I carefully step (to avoid any dog poo left by careless dog walkers in our neighborhood) and continue to scare him into scampering so fast he'll drop the poisonous plastic square.
Circling the tree, I hear him scratching & scrambling his way up & away. I continue my chatter, staring up into the tree, shading my eyes from the bits of sharp pointy sunlight that shatters through the leaves.
And that's when I notice that the neighbor across the street is noticing me, the crazy lady, alone & looking up talking to the sky. Or maybe the tree. Either way, she's embarrassed for me & scuttles away. Much like the squirrel. Only my "crazy" likely won't be as toxic to my neighbor as the ant trap will be for the squirrel.
I now await the death of the little red squirrel.
Look at what the ants have made me do.