I swear The Squirrel Story WILL be done

Posted on by Sarah A. Hoyt

I have a short story with a squirrel started. (11-D Mailclerk’s fault) though it’s not science fiction. But I’ve managed to catch a friend’s cold, and I was still pretty beat up with pneumonia recovery. So….

I’m going to break my self imposed rule and hit rattle the cup without giving you a freeby. I’m running a mid winter fundraiser for the blog. You know why.

There’s a Give Send Go for the Winter Fundraiser and well, if you need anything else including a snail mail address, please go here.

If you haven’t seen the free reading and the free short story, page down for them. And I’ll have the short story tomorrow, I promise. I just need a good night’s sleep and a late start for a change. (Sorry.)

Oh, yeah, meanwhile, Draw One In the Dark, the first of the Shifters’ books is on sale for 99c.

Something or someone is killing shape shifters in the small mountain town of Goldport, Colorado. Kyrie Smith, a server at a local diner, is the last person to solve the mystery. Except of course for the fact that she changes into a panther and that her co-worker, Tom Ormson, who changes into a dragon, thinks he might have killed someone. Add in a policeman who shape-shifts into a lion, a father who is suffering from remorse about how he raised his son, and a triad of dragon shape shifters on the trail of a magical object known as The Pearl of Heaven and the adventure is bound to get very exciting indeed. Solving the crime is difficult enough, but so is — for our characters — trusting someone with secrets long-held. Originally published by Baen Books.

37 thoughts on “I swear The Squirrel Story WILL be done”

  1. “The Rodentia Liberation Front shall not be denied!”

    -unnamed squirrel #686, shortly before being pounced, mangled, and devoured by Neighborcat, probably.

    Nastycat has been trying to teach his pink plastic dino to hunt, I think. He trots it out to the yard, places it just so, and then attacks the sticks in the yard. Then he looks over at the pink dino, just to make sure it was paying attention. Then attacks the sticks again. I swear I heard Nieghborcat sigh, watching him. Then he buried his head under his tail. In embarrassment, more than likely.

    The home front has been relatively busy of late. The squirrely nation has not given up in their quest to colonize the “Christmas tree” pine on the front quarter. Six times today they attempted an assault and trespass. Three of those ended in fatalities- not the catter horde, of course. What tempts them, far up the tree? Pinecones do not make good nuts. Only the RLF knows.

    Neighborcat has been quite pleased with their efforts. He has shared his kills with the family. Othercat enjoys this entirely too much. He plays the obvious threat, while Neighborcat stalks them unseen. Those two play their prey to death, tag teaming them into oblivion. The snakes sleep, the birds have passed by- save for the dumb geese that some idiot has been feeding at the park. That leaves the ever hopeful rodents to become the ones that try- and inevitably fail- to break into the house.

    It wouldn’t do them any good anyway. The great orange floof might be a cat of tiny brain, but he’s no slacker when it comes to the indoor hunt. Spider-crickets, the occasional moth, anything that is moving and smaller than him is fair game. He seems almost sad when they stop trying to get away.

    Until he smells chicken, of course. Then he’s laser focused on that pot, awaiting with practically zero patience his tasty feast. He will accept tuna, or turkey, or beef- but chicken is his addiction.

    There was one year when a mouse actually made it into the house, somehow. Doofus scampered about, tracking it wherever it hid, until the frazzled thing tried to make a break for it to the basement. This did not end well for the wee little rodent. One mouse and one cat went into the basement. One self-satisfied and proud looking orange fluff came out, a few bits of blood and viscera being licked away.

    Years back, there was an old house down the way that held renters. And by renters, I mean foul squalor masquerading in human form. They were filthy. When that house was demolished (to great joy and satisfaction of the rest of the neighborhood), the rat warren was not -quite- demolished with it. That’s about the time Neighborcat first showed up and claimed his patch of my yard.

    The battles between young Neighborcat and the RLF of those days was a constant battle and bloody war. Rats, mice, moles, voles by the dozen were eviscerated on the daily. Neighborcat would trot back up, bringing one of his kills with him, and collapse into an exhausted slumber every day. Only to wake back up and do it again. And again. And again.

    Some cats are hunters by nature. Others… Neighborcat was forged into a killing machine in those days. He never skips a day. The field over the hill and the forest up the holler will never run out of rodents. And Neighborcat will never until his dying breath stop ending them the moment they cross the property line.

    It doesn’t matter how many. It doesn’t matter what time of day. Anything that steps one paw, claw, or tongue across that line is a dead creature walking. Doofus has his chicken. Nasty has his pink dino. Othercat has his lady love across they way.

    And Neighborcat has his war against all things rodent, bird, and reptile. If there is an audition going for “death (little D) of critters”, I think Neighborcat is solidly in the running.

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      1. Hm. Miz Kitty, mighty huntress. When she actually does catch and eat the occasional intruding bug, she then channels Godzilla. Rears up on hind legs and projectile yacks it.

        “Huff. Huff. HUFF HUFF …. Heeyeeek! GLORK!”

        She then smugly demands her treat.

        One sick kitty. Love that fuzzball.

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    2. Agree with Sarah. Your cat reports are a joy to read.

      While we have 5 cats their antics aren’t as fun to report. We’ve had our moments with cats in general. The time that we took hand size Pippie out to the backyard and she immediately started stalking the wild pidgins that nested on the chimney at the house behind us. Pidgin was bigger than she was.

      Or the day we had 4 cats, stationed at the four compass points around a hole in the ground, with dirt flying out of it. They were playing “whack a mole” every time it popped it’s head out. Then said mole got tired of that and came out clinging to the whacking cat’s paw. Said cat went straight up in the air shaking paw. Mole went flying off. Four cats in pursuit. Mole went back in the hole. Cats were back surrounding it. After we finished laughing, we gathered up the cats and took them inside. Closed up the hole (not that the mole was stopped).

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    2. I hadn’t noticed that …

      But these helmets would seem to be ‘dumb helmets’; for example, the RAH descriptions of a Mobile Infantry helmet suggest a lot of vision augmentations, and information displays. These squirrels may have that stuff, but external to the helmet.

      So, which is the preferable equipment? I tend toward the external stuff, as it is more easily upgraded or replaced. Other circumstances may require quicker access to the info that a different helmet with integrated displays may provide.

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  3. Think someone applied the Rule of Cool to the helmets. (Please, please, please do not look that trope up; it will lead, most certainly to a time sink of blackhole size.) Or perhaps it was the light? Yeah, that’s it; it’s a trick of the light.

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    1. Trying to remember where I saw/read: hero wearing quick-deploy force helmet. Thug throws punch at bare jaw and breaks hand on sudden faceplate. “ow!”

      Schlock Mercenary?

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    1. The Reader wants to know if there will be mousse. He is fond of sweets while reading.

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      1. you EAT that stuff!!! I have used it for a hair styling product instead of the lard that Grandpa used. Wondered why there were still so many flies hanging around me.

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    2. Well, there was moose (and squirrel!) just the other day; so maybe?

      Y’all, please pray for my wife’s Chevy. It has a radiator leak; replacing the radiator requires removing the bumper, so I was hoping to hold off, but there was a dried puddle in front of the car just a bit ago. Just keep adding water, I guess.

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      3. use premix antifreeze. Straight hot water becomes corrosive without the AF. Will do damage. Anything made since the 80s needs antifreeze, proper mixture.

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    2. “Bullwinkle, do you know what ‘A-Bomb’ is?”
      “Certainly! ‘A-Bomb’ is what some people call our show!”
      “I don’t think that’s very funny.”
      “Neither do they, apparently.”

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  8. Called upon to surrender their hopless position, the Squirrel leader responded with the now famous retort:

    “N U T S !”

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  9. “I have a short story with a squirrel started. (11-D Mailclerk’s fault) though it’s not science fiction. But I’ve managed to catch a friend’s cold, and I was still pretty beat up with pneumonia recovery. So….”

    … you’ve squirreled it away for the moment?

    (Hey, SOMEBODY had to say it!)

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