In the [nearly] 5 weeks since we've been in Tahoe, our cat--Juno--has treated us to:
1 mouse--brought inside alive, encouraged to run amuck, and eventually assassinated (hours later, mind you) by means of a well-aimed pellet gun. Poor little critter.
1 chipmunk--found by Timothy in his bedroom near a pile of legos, in the process of being munched and devoured by a ferocious bone-crunching giant feline. Only the tail and random vital organs remained. Apparently the long tails on these chipmunks aren't too tasty.
1 lizard--brought inside alive but slightly injured, nonchalantly picked up and returned to The Great Outdoors by my dad (aren't dads great?).
1 mouse--brought inside alive (presumably) but discovered somewhere in-between its passing into mousie heaven and its passing into Juno's stomach...also discovered somewhere in-between Andrew's and Timothy's dining room chairs.
1 chipmunk--brought inside alive (of course) and immediately abandoned by the cat so that said cat may enjoy watching a house full of humans alternately chase and run from the poor terrified rodent. Turns out a towel is the secret weapon to trapping chipmunks indoors...just in case you've ever wondered.
1 HUGE lizard--intercepted whilst being brought inside alive (really, would you have expected otherwise?) and successfully restricted to the fresh mountain air OUTSIDE my house. This poor guy lost his tail, but I think he escaped with his life. ooo...maybe not. on second thought, perhaps he got eaten and that's why the cat puked later. Sorry, I know--Too Much Information. Don't worry, Juno ate it all back up so we didn't have to clean very much. (SORRY--Really this time. I'll stop being a brat--promise.)
All right. So--as if we haven't had enough wild-animal-drama--last night was the icing on the cake (let's just hope there are no sprinkles or candles in the works). It was just before midnight and I was chatting with the boys in the living room (we're night people, in case you hadn't guessed--Timothy made the comment a couple of days ago that our house is more alive at 11pm than at 11am). Suddenly, Timothy stops, eyes widened, and points at the front window and says "BEAR!". Sure enough, there was a black bear with his nose Pressed Against the Window Screen. I stood up, yelling at the top of my lungs, stomping, waving my arms, banging on things, marching directly towards the bear. He eventually decided to back away--no doubt having a bit of trouble maneuvering through the open windows, bushes and planter boxes he's finagled his way into.
The gall! The audacity! I was busy texting Chris (as he was away from home) when I heard more rustling and bumping outside the windows. Sure enough, the little* stinker had come back! (*little comparatively--like how China is little compared to the Pacific Ocean.) He was probably only a couple hundred pounds. I scared him off again, and not taking any more chances, closed and locked all the windows, lowered all the shades, and locked all the doors.
I didn't turn out my nightstand lamp until 3am. Didn't really get fully to sleep until around 5:30am. I'm hoping that tonight is a little less exciting, I need some sleep!