Squirrel Psychosis

I do not like rodents. 

I do not like any animal smaller than my 70lb dog.  Well, maybe other smaller dogs.  That's about it.

I have always hated rodents, even while growing up on a farm surrounded in part by rodents of all except the unusual sizes.   I have, as attested by most of my family members I'm sure, always jumped up and probably screamed or yelled "Oh, oh, oh"!  I've never warmed up to any small rodent, especially those that resemble a mouse or rat.  

Squirrels resemble mice.  Just with a fluffier tail.  

That said, today I came home and was enjoying watering my flowers when I heard a chattering coming loudly from my grill.  My first thought was a bird, but when I opened the grill I saw the fur.  

 I promptly left that post and stepped into the drive where I tried to pelt the grill with small pebbles in an effort to "encourage" the animal to depart.  Did I mention I planned to grill tonight?  No, not squirrel. (everyone seems to think this was a good plan except me)
When it seems evident that the squirrel was not relinquishing his new cozy home, I called in my guard dog.  After only a little bit of explanation, Rowdy was on it.  It didn't take too long before he pushed the little critter out of hiding.

 Yeah, this is where it would have been really funny to watch.  The squirrel finally popped out and began it's exit straight to me.  Remember my rodent phobia?  Yes, this is when my freak-out began in earnest.  I was jumping all around, trying to get away while screaming my "OH, OH, OH'S"!  Being a retriever, Rowdy quickly subdued his prey and, like a good boy, brought it to me!  It was still alive and squirming so I ran inside and, bless his heart, Rowdy held on to his catch outside the door.

I grabbed a plastic bag and a treat and headed outside through the other door.  I coaxed Rowdy to let go of his prize for the treat, while I got a stick and flopped the now deceased squirrel into the bag.

I hate rodents.