Wild Kingdom

Preferable

Yesterday morning, after my husband left at his usual ungodly hour of 5:30 am to work out, I had a little trouble falling back asleep. Just as I began to drift off, I heard a gobble-gobble noise outside my window. I'd heard rumor of wild turkeys living around our house, but was thoroughly unprepared for the sight I found when I peeked out from between my bedroom blinds. This turkey did not resemble the paper handprint cutouts we made in nursery school. It was far closer to one of those prehistoric running things in Jurassic Park. Terrified, I ran back to bed and hid my head under the covers.

The turkeys are not the only wildlife I've been learning to deal with since moving to Connecticut. While driving at night, I fear running into one of the deer that I can glimpse standing by the side of the road. The other day on a walk with George I spotted a hawk large enough to lift us both of the ground if he were so inclined. And last week a little red frog hopped out from underneath the wheel of my car when I got into it.

All of this pales in comparison to Clarence. Clarence is the little houseguest who I hear scratching and running around our attic at night. He makes a LOT of noise, so much so that I thought he might be something as large as a raccoon. I am repulsed and horrified by raccoons, with their propensity to eat garbage and their freaky little human-like hands. My father-in-law claims that Clarence is a squirrel, our contractor Steve says he might be a chipmunk (or many chipmunks), and Jared has yet to hear it so he thinks I've imagined the whole thing.

A very long time ago, my mom's friend told us this story about how her neighbor had woken up one morning and found a dead bat in the bed with her. That's right: dead. bat. in. her. bed. With her! I heard this story roughly 20 years ago and still think about it constantly, with renewed fear now that I can hear Clarence above me. I know (or Jared claims) that there are layers of ceiling, insulation, and floor between me and Clarence. But at night, when I hear him right above my head, he sounds very close. And I can't help but replay that story in my mind as I lie awake. I have this nightmare vision that one night as I sleep he will crash through the ceiling and land on my head.

Obviously, this would be beyond devastating and I would have to be institutionalized immediately. While I spent a month being reprogrammed and having my head shaved and disinfected, Jared and George would have to move in with my in-laws while our house was sprayed down with poison and then covered in a plastic dome like a snow globe.