There is a dead squirrel in my backyard. I don't know how he got there... my guess is he was either a squirrel from the other side of the hood and he was up to no good in my backyard and the squirrel that lives in my trees (who is still up in my trees cackling and laughing and not answering any questions) snuffed him out, or the killer ground hog got to him.
I have been looking at this dead squirrel through my back door all morning hoping that his homeys would come carry him away and give him a funeral with some Tupac song playing in the background, but that doesn't seem likely. I am sure the rival squirrels are scared into hiding in order to keep their furry tails out of view... or maybe they are planning their retaliation.
It could be like West Side Story in my backyard in the next few days, but in the meantime I need to go grab my shovel from the garage and clean the dead squirrel up before he starts to smell.
It is days like these when I think about how much I love my job and how glamorous it all is.