I opened my office door into the parish hall today, ready to pull the easel out into the hall for use in tonight's class, when who do I catch red-pawed in the middle of the floor but one big ole fat flying squirrel? I made a startled squeaking sound (okay, I screamed a little). He just stared at me, probably aghast that he was caught. I dropped the easel, pulled the liner out of my wastepaper basket and prepared to capture him.
I'm not sure if he was slow because he's fat and out of shape, or if he's just dumb, but he sure wasn't moving very quickly or doing a very good job of plotting his escape route. I caught him, took him outside, and released him.
He promptly leapt into a pricker bush and got his little flaps of skin all caught on the prickers. Don't worry- I was all set to help him, but he just twisted around and used his paws to un-catch himself. He must do that a lot...
I wonder if catching squirrels is the same principle as catching trout- you catch and release the young tiny ones, so that by the time they grow up a little, they are bigger and tastier. Of course, they've also gotten smarter, so you have to be a little sneaky in how you catch them. This squirrel certainly hadn't improved in intelligence at all, but he certainly got bigger and fatter.
Well, guys, that is YOUR PRIEST at WORK! Forget sermons. Forget visiting. Forget committees. It's all about defending my people from the onslaught of VARMINTS. I am the servant of the Junior Warden, who officially records in his logs that he is working to eradicate the Varmints. You go, Jim. I'll be waiting with the wastebasket for the next one.