My yard in Florida was like a wildlife sanctuary. You've heard about the raccoon, but how many remember about the squirrel?
One morning when I was still a new hanger, I woke-up in my hammock next to the house to the sound of a dog barking after taking helium shots. I opened my eyes and directly above me was a squirrel standing on my ridgeline with his (yes, I know for sure it was "his"; perverted little bugger) little claws digging into my netting and 'barking' at me! I didn't know if I should be amused or mad, so I decided to tip the scale towards 'amusement'. I slowly reached up a foot, or two, behind the mad squirrel and pinched the ridgeline between my fingers. As I gradually drew the ridgeline down like a stealthy bow hunter, the barking rose in pitch (like he knew what was coming). When I reached the point that I could no longer pull the ridgeline any lower, I let go.
With a mighty "thwang!" my little furry alarm clock went sailing through the air about 15' or 20'. Landed on the ground, shot me a wicked dirty look, and took off into the wooded lot next to my house.
I spent the next week laughing everytime I thought about it. At least I've now seen a flying squirrel, well, sort of.
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