Want To Know Where All the Squirrels Go in the Winter?
With the North Country winter upon us, wildlife and SLUdents alike are spending as little time outside as possible. The trek from Dana Dining Hall to your dorm in the dark during a snowstorm is probably your least favorite part of the day. And if it’s not that, then it’s probably attending the classes you pay big bucks for, but you get the gist. Little do you know, squirrels have a similar problem. Scurrying through the snow, dodging snowflakes and high-flying predators. But they don’t have a comfy, cushy little dorm to return to. At least not in the way you think. Instead, after a long day of classes and hitting the pub with their friends (I don’t know what squirrels do), squirrels post up on the walls of your beloved theme houses. Inches away from the sleeping heads of the dumb-dumbs inside.
The issue of squirrels is an essential part of theme house living. You may think you know your housemates, but I assure you, there are roughly 50 tiny housemates you’ve never seen. But you can certainly hear them! As someone who has lived in a theme house for three years, I can tell you that living amongst the squirrels is not for the weak.
You may think the scariest part of living with the squirrels is the language barrier. While this is an issue I face, it’s not my biggest issue. No. My biggest issue is what they do in the walls. Now, I live on the second floor of my house, but that wasn’t enough to stop them from building nests right next to where I sleep. I regularly drift away to the sweet serenade of their scratching and screeching. When I say sweet serenade, I mean the terrifying and disturbing sound when a piece of drywall separates you and a hungry animal. I’m not saying that they would eat me if they got through the wall, but you can’t be too sure. What if I had eaten peanut butter that day? I don’t even want to think about it.
Though this is a problem that needs to be dealt with, I am not calling for extermination. I don’t blame the squirrels for living in the walls of my home; it’s not their fault. It is in their nature to find tiny little places to survive through the North Country winter, and I do not blame them for choosing a heated house to spend the winter. However, my life cannot continue this way. Something needs to be done. So, I hereby request that the school builds little houses for the squirrels. It wouldn’t take that much money or effort to get after this. I haven’t run the numbers, but I hereby donate my personal tuition to the cause. That should cover it.
Also, there should be tiny versions of all theme houses so they don’t get confused and the transition is easier for them. I don’t know whom to ask about this, so I took to The Hill News, and I’m calling for the people to help me. Screw tiny plates at Dana and the Pizzaforno – this is the essential St. Lawrence problem that needs to be rectified as soon as possible.
As to where this tiny house should be, that’s the question. I feel like there are a whole bunch of places where they could live and thrive outside of my walls. But hey, I’m just the idea guy; I can’t be responsible for all this. I already came up with this great idea and donated the money. But, if you are going to twist my arm and pull my leg about it, do we even NEED the Richard F. Brush ’52 University Quad? What if it was instead of a boring square of grass, it was their little neighborhood? When was the last time you stood in the middle of Squirrel Nation, I mean the quad, and said to yourself, “Wow, I love it here! Can’t wait to come back tomorrow!” We. Don’t. Need. It. I fear it’s a small price to pay for the peace of the theme house dwellers. If not them, me, come on guys, I want to go to sleep! We know what we need to do, we just gotta put the plan into motion.