7:18 Pm - I was walking through my neighbourhood park on the way home from work, minding my own business, when out of nowhere, a grey squirrel attacked me.
A quickly moving blur caught the corner of my eye, momentarily paralyzing me with shock. I reacted in cinematic slow motion as the blur leapt out at me from atop a nearby fence post. It landed on my shoulder, skidded across my back, and used my head as a springboard to launch itself skyward into a nearby low-hanging branch. This sent me into a fit of hysterical shrieking and arm-flailing, which did not go unnoticed by my old nemeses: The Dogwalkers Who Think They Own The Fucking Park.
Don't send hate mail: I actually love dogs. And dog owners. And other people who love dogs and dog owners. But these particularly self-righteous knobs give an evil face to the otherwise innocent and pleasurable hobby of Dog Ownership. The Dogwalkers let their freakyhyper hounds run lose so they can molest me with their grubby noses, and some of the dogs are rather aggressive in the crotch-smelling and leg-humping categories. Nice doggy, please stop fucking me! No lady, I don't think it's cute or precious. Call off your slutty mutt. RIGHT NOW.
Many of The Dogwalkers don't bother to scoop, littering the park with special little gifts from their special little friends -- something everyone can enjoy! And now they were laughing and pointing at me, armed with a good dinner-table story for the folks at home: "you'll never guess what I just saw in the dog park!" Not one of them asked if I was okay.
The squirrel will probably deny the attack. I'm sure it will maintain that it was merely using me as temporary transport location to get from point A to point B. It didn't bite me or cause serious harm, save for a near-coronary and an interesting new hairstyle -- which I kept, by the way. Just another commuter's badge of honour.
