Squirrels Run Wild by the Sea!

[cfc]

The affection of TPR's gracious hostess for rodents has brought to mind a bizarre incident that I experienced about six or seven years ago. I was spending the long President's Day weekend with a buddy on the beautiful Monterey Peninsula. He was giving a talk at the Steinbeck Center in Salinas, and it was my birthday that weekend, so we decided to tool around Monterey, eating good seafood, drinking good beer, and enjoying a classic "guy's weekend."

 

We decided to check out Carmel's Seventeen Mile Drive (a road so cool you have to spend good money just to drive on it). This road goes through the famous Pebble Beach golf course and offers some spectacular views of the Pacific. It was a mild, sunny day, perfect for sightseeing. Little did we know the horror that lay in store.

 

After stopping at the golf course for a brief continental lunch (that is, two Guinesses and a bag of Doritos), we tooled on to a scenic spot called (I think) the "Angry Seas," where the blue Pacific slams into the rocks, sending plumes of water twenty or thirty feet into the air. Quite a sight, even if the seas aren't especially pissed off about anything.

 

This spot was also the home, it seemed, of about twenty or thirty squirrels, who were just hanging around the parking lot, looking for crumbs. Or Doritos, as it turned out. When we arrived, these adorable little rodents were just sort of milling around randomly.

 

Or perhaps not so randomly.

 

Well, we climbed out of our rental car, and the squirrels seemed to take no notice of our presence. That is, until I pulled out the bag of Doritos, which now contained only crumbs, for disposal in a trash can.

 

The squirrels stopped their random milling. They all snapped to attention on their hind legs, their beady little eyes looking first at me, then at the bag. It was like stepping into an old cartoon, and rather unsettling, to say the least. I could hear little squeaky voices in my head, shouting in unison, "FOOD!"

 

One bold rodent trotted right up to me, reared back on its hind legs, and tugged at my pants leg. "Gimme! Gimme!" it seemed to say. I stood there, slack jawed. The other squirrels still stood at attention, like soldiers on review.

 

My buddy was equally startled, but recovered his composure first: "For God's sake, give them the crumbs!" I dumped out the bag, and as the crumbs settled to the ground, the squirrel soldiers broke ranks, swarming the precious Dorito bits like ravenous orcs in The Lord of the Rings.

 

I retreated to the trash can to throw away the now empty bag. The lead squirrel followed, and kept tugging at my pants leg. "More? More?"

 

"Let's head for the beach," my buddy said, as he slowly backed toward the ocean. We clambered down the rocks, which were lined with squirrels, standing at attention, staring at us as we left. We wandered along the shore for fifteen minutes, working up our courage to return to the rental car, where I fully expected to see the little critters waiting in ambush. "Gimme! Gimme! More? More?"

 

Instead, we made good our escape from this example of what happens when wild animals get a little too dependent on human handouts.

[PhishyBrewer]

LMFAO!!!

 

That would of made a great little movie.

[AznShortBoi8021]

ROFLMAO! Never feed the squirrels. I've never been terrorized by rodents before, but I'll be careful around rodents from now on.

[cfc]

LMFAO!!!

 

That would of made a great little movie.

 

I only wish that I had a few pictures--didn't have my camera that day. Doritos should use it in a commercial.