"My porkchop!"

Hmm. Well, I suppose it's nice to know the neighbourhood rodentia still consider the backyard a five-star eatery, even if they occsionally bring their own take-out. Just as well, I suppose. Would have been a bummer if I'd planted those garlic chives for nuthin'...

See - last year, I wrote about a certain seeming Cajun-cookin'-luvin' denizen of the backyard that was running amok amongst my flower beds, no matter how much cayenne pepper I doused the joint with. The top-soil was angry red with it - to no discernible adverse affect on the varmint.

Well, it seems the wee furball is back this spring. With an increased appetite.

And he's kind of... scary.

See - I just got chased out of my own dang garden by a squirrel. He was halfway up a tree and he started making these... noises at me. Not like - *chitter*chitter* "I'm a cute little squirrely-squirrel" *chitter*chitter*. Nope. He growled at me. Little squirrely-teeth bared and everything. It was disconcerting.

What was more disconcerting was that, in between his little, bared, squirrely-teeth, he was holding what, I swear, was a porkchop. A whole porkchop - almost as big as he was. Maybe he growled at me because he thought I wanted the porkchop - I didn't - but there was no way I was gonna fight him for it. I suspect I would have lost.

Maybe all that cayenne pepper last year somehow mutated the local fauna. Or maybe I should just start laying out table cloths and tiny menus.