We all have a phobia. Whether it's fish, spiders, small spaces . . . there's at lease ONE thing out there that we are afraid of. Well my phobia is squirrels: Sciurophobia.
It all started when I was 10 years old. I was at my grandparents' house by myself playing outside on the tire swing, when suddenly I heard a chattering noise from above me in the tree. I looked up and there was a cute little squirrel.
The squirrel made some weird chattering noises then ran away across the power line to my grandparents' deck.
Little did I know, the squirrel had run to my grandparents' deck for a sinister reason. My grandparents keep plums from the plum tree on their deck, and the squirrel must have decided that these would make wonderful projectiles . . .
The squirrel grabbed an armload of the plums and ran back along the power line and back to the tree where I was peacefully swinging.
Once the squirrel ran out of plums to throw at me, it jumped out of the tree and started chasing me like a maniac!
I ran down the street all the way home. Turns out, the squirrel never left my grandparents' yard. Anyways, I think that the squirrel broadcasted about me on Squirrel TV, because after that incident, every squirrel I've seen has chased me or attacked me . . .
Translation: Burger fried cactus rampages through sea of cows. Must be hugged.
Hey! Wait a minute . . . that isn't the right translation! Ugh online translators these days are useless! Here's the RIGHT translation, sorry about that:
Translation: Calling all squirrels, we have found enemy #1. Destroy her!
So yes. Now I am terrified of squirrels.
Oh, almost forgot . . . Never trust a squirrel!