Leave it to my husband, Ruedi

We held our breath looking outside our bedroom window. The oversized mucho fat perpetrator was daring once again to attack our sanctuary. Being unsuccessful to stop his uninvited presence in the past, we had become desparate avengers to decimate this desperado.

Researching defense moves to counter-act our adversary's offense, we drove to our main research center in Mountain Home, AR., WALMART.

Choosing our ultimate weapon, we put out the green bucks necessary to protect our homestead.

And we waited.

Sure enough he approched, his corpulent body confident he would score again. And, then, it happened. The newly chosen bird seed feeder closed down its gates because of this squirrel's chubby wubby weight triggered the defense system. The menancing squirrel was powerless. The bird seed was saved!

I jumped in victory; we hugged each other for this compelling success of competitive playing against a conniving opponent who had beaten us so many times before. We were the Giants, and we had won victory! Dejected, rejected, the squirrel, glancing back with a small tear in his eye, vanished.

The squirrel had been conquered, and I laughed with glee. My husband was more quiet. I assumed he was exhausted from all our previous attempts to get rid of this varmint.

Minutes later, as I walked into the family room to watch TV, I discovered my husband outside on the balcony. He was carefully pouring birdseed on the balcony's railing.