They're back. Like an unwanted cold or an unannounced visit from the in-laws, the return each spring of the killer squirrels is never cause for celebration. Yet as I type, there is mad scrabbling in the walls and ceiling surrounding me, and the sound of dirt dropping through our ventilation system. Stupid squirrels. Why can't they take a hint and leave us alone?

I'm putting off calling Critter Control, although I know that's what I'll be reduced to eventually. $150 for a house visit and poison baiting. Never mind that the Harris household has taken a bit of a financial punch this month in terms of cat dental surgery, a new-used car, an eye exam and new contact lenses for me, and just this morning Blair went to the doctor because the cat scratches on his neck is actually a cat bite and inflamed. They gave him a tetanus shot and a 10-day dose of medicine. People, the well is dry.

And ... oh dear God. Something just shuddered in the wall in front of me, right behind the vent. It was the sound a dog makes when it comes out of the water and shakes itself dry. Or the sound a killer squirrel makes before launching itself through a heat vent onto the head of a person sitting at a computer, typing.

Fine, I give. I'm off to call Critter Control right now.

The gentleman I met at Saturday's dinner gave me the name and number of a female runner in the area who's looking for a running partner on Wednesday nights. We spoke last night and are meeting tonight for a trail run. I'm a little nervous.  I don't want to be too slow for her, plus I'm not used to running trails and don't know how that might affect my run. Although actually, I'm looking forward to that aspect of it--something different sounds fun.

She game me the option of running a 5.8 mile trail with "a lot of ups and downs" or a similar trail that's a lot flatter, but has more roots and things to watch out for. It's a question for me of how "up" the ups are. "Hills build character" is my neighbor's mantra, but we both tend to avoid them.

I hope we're a match. I'm in Greensboro every Wednesday and it'd be nice to find a regular running partner.

Batman had the Joker... Popeye had Brutus... and Kirk had Kahn. Bitter enemies, each, until the end.

I too, have my nemesis. Not a sole proprietor, but rather an ever growing army of evil. I call this nemesis... Demon Squirrels From Hell.

And now they have company.

It appears the chipmunks have joined their ranks. Remember the clawing and shuffling in the vent tunnels last week? The exterminator guy said it looked like chipmunks had got in there. "I don't like 'em," he said, then put enough poison out to kill a small cow. (For the record, I was unaware of this. I thought he just hadn't showed but turned out he came 'round the house last week after all and did an outside inspection and left the bait then.)

So... the chipmunks want to fight me as well? Bring it on.  I'll never admit defeat. Do you hear me? Never!!

I am so going to build myself a cat cave from which I'll fight the forces of evil. And if I can get a cool car and a butler named Alfred and a billionaire playgirl secret identity in the deal, so much the better.

Some of us were born to be heroes.

They haven't got me yet. Then again, I haven't got them either. I spoke with our exterminator yesterday who said he would be over as soon as he finished up his current job. Must have been some job as I waited the rest of the day and he never showed... So the mutant-demon squirrels live to fight another day.

They're back.

I refer, of course, to the killer squirrels who have made consistent (if failed) attempts on my home and life for the past four years.

As I sit typing these words, I face a vent in the wall. Attached behind the vent is a long silver air duct tube. And from that tube for the last 20 minutes have come the sounds of scrambling, scurrying, and the click-clack of the nails of a creature that is drawing closer... closer...

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