No, you misunderstood. Squirrels are superheroes.

I know, you doubt me because look at all the bad stuff in the world. But imagine how bad it would be without them.

True story incoming!

Back maybe fifteen years ago, me and my best friend were out in the yard putting down pavers for a little shady nook under a giant oak.

A squirrel was furious at us for doing so, and kept up its tirade at us for hours, literally. Like, it started up when we did and didn't stop even while we took a break a few hours in to rehydrate and have a snack.

It gets around three or four in the afternoon, and the most gods-awful racket kicks up. This fucking squirrel has gone nuts and is doing its screech/chitter/scream up and down a limb. The thing was apoplectic with rage that we dared sit down again under its tree. We're kinda debating whether or not our plan was a good one with a neighbor like that, but we sure as hell aren't moving those pavers elsewhere.

The noises spike, and then there's an increase in volume followed by a plop as this fucking crazy rodent lands right in between us. Now, this was no superhero landing, the little bugger laid there for a good thirty seconds, and I thought it was dead.

We're shocked, and I finally start moving to check on it, grabbing my cane to poke it before I get near with a hand.

Squirrel Nutkase there flips the fuck out as soon as he gets touched. Does this triple backflip with a gainer and a barrel roll, just twisting through six dimensions at once before landing on all fours, with its tail straight out and up, looking like it's about to launch itself into light speed.

Which it does. Right up my fucking cane, onto my arm, up and over my shoulder. I'm thinking that it will make a hilarious obituary that I died by squirrel attack, but the little bugger launches off again onto the tree and proceeds to call my mama all kinds of things. Well, I assume that's what it was saying since it was shaking in rage and shock while it made the most horrid sounds.