Terror in the Suburbs

For the large majority of my life, I have been afraid of squirrels. Sure, it's not a paralyzing fear like some of those other nagging anxieties I have about flying, being underground, etc., but I still really don't like the glorified rats with bushy tails. When I was little, my mother told me not to try to pet, feed, or trap squirrels. I really don't ever remember having the inclination to do any of those things, but she still told me not to. She said that squirrels could give you rabies and that her childhood friend Beth got rabies from a squirrel and had to get shots in her belly button so she wouldn't die. As neither death nor needles appealed to me, I listened and stayed away from squirrels. In general, this wasn't a problem until I got to college and encountered the dangerously domesticated squirrel (DDS). The DDS is so used to living on a diet of discarded Cheetos and having drunk frat boys want to love on it that it is immune to the fears of most squirrels and will actually approach humans. The DDS might get your hand as your tossing something in the trash bin, approach you when you're napping on the quad, or climb in your dorm room window on a sunny day. None of these things should happen. My friend Amy was attacked by a DDS one morning as she went to her job as a lifeguard in the school's gymnasium. The squirrel flew out of a trash can, arms and legs wide, as it tried to land spread-eagled on her back. Luckily, Amy saw it coming and had the chance to dodge the oncoming squirrel in the nick of time. I also firmly believe that whenever more than 1 squirrel is gathered together in the same place, they are conspiring against the humans. Notice that they look at you more furtively when they're in packs. Also, who can really look at a group of 4 or 5 squirrels huddled together under a tree and not feel a bit uneasy? My sophomore year roommate liked to feed squirrels. She kept some treats in her jacket pocket for trips to the library and around campus. When I learned about this, I had to tell her the sordid tale of Beth and the rabies. Whether or not she heeded my warning, I never heard about her encouraging the DDS again. Anyway, here comes my point. My dog likes to chase squirrels. I try to discourage this, but secretly (or not so secretly), it makes me feel safe. This morning, Cassidy was closing in on a squirrel, when, instead of the squirrel running away in fear, the squirrel began coming in our direction. It leaped toward the dog and hopped on top of the nearby fence. I was convinced that the squirrel was actually going to land on my head. Therefore, I did the only sensible thing under such dire circumstances - I screamed like a little girl and ran away. Of course, I have never liked running either. I've always said that I would only run to escape a charging animal or get out of some other life-threatening situation. I just had no idea that the menacing, charging animal of my nightmares would be a squirrel.