What does Insanity, Einstein, Rats and a Squirrel Have in Common?

I have a bad case of rats.

Which isn’t surprising considering we are on the Roseville annex line and back up to miles and miles of open fields.

And, 2019, has become the year of the rat.

Three years ago, it was the year of the locust.
Two years ago, it was the year of the spider (the size of small children)
Last year, it was the year of the raccoon and opossum.

The rats are a problem because they get in the chicken food, rabbit food and scare the bejesus out of you when you walk up to put the animals up each night.

So, I asked my husband to solve the rat problem and gave him some specific guidelines:
1)      No poison (because of the hawks and owls)
2)      No sticky traps (because of the blue belly lizards and king snakes)
3)      No death traps (because of the birds and squirrels)

This left us with live traps.  Eight live traps to be exact distributed in the back yard.

Monday morning (as in 7/29), I went up to let the chickens out and I noticed something rather large in the live trap in their pen.  Didn’t look like a rat, so decided to investigate.

An adorable young ground squirrel.

Fearing what my husband would do if he found it, I quickly got the trap, moved it to the top of the chicken food table and opened the trap.  The squirrel bolted.  I reset the trap and put it back in its place.

After a very hard lunch hour call, I decided to finish my lunch up on “the hill” (i.e. the farthest part of the backyard where the chickens, tortoise, rabbits and lizards live).

Approaching the hill, I notice the trap was sprung again.  Yep, the adorable young ground squirrel had been caught again.

Like last time, I got the trap, moved it to the top of the chicken food table and hit release.  Again, the squirrel bolted.  I didn’t think twice, but reset the trap and put it back in its place.

I think you all know what happens next, right?

Working away, it dawned on me that maybe – just maybe – I shouldn’t have reset the trap.  It was a hot day, nearing the hottest part of the day and God forbid the squirrel get trapped again.

Luckily that call ended early and I was able to run up the hill and found the trap sprung again with the ground squirrel.

Apologizing to the squirrel for not thinking, I grab the trap, moved it to the chicken food table and hit release.

This time, the squirrel does not bolt.  Instead, he walks out of the trap and sits down (literally, like a foot from me) on the table and just stares at me.

Not sure if he is angry with me or attempting to negotiate or saying thank you, I reach in my pocket and grab a rabbit snack and put it in front of him (or her).

I take the trap, close it, and put it at the end of the table.   All the while, holding a lively conversation with the squirrel (Did I mention I talk to animals?).

With my next conference call looming, I said goodbye to the squirrel and went back to work.

I kept reflecting on the squirrel for the rest of the day.  It probably would make you laugh to think of some of the thoughts, but where I landed was what matters.

Why do I keep doing the same things over and over expecting different results?   Seriously, after two times, why didn’t my brain click?

Was I just going through the motion?
Was I on autopilot?
Was I in a hurry?
Or, was I simply not thinking?

Whether or not Einstein actually said it, there is truth in “The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result.”

To get a different result, I just need to pause, think, adjust and alter the course.  If it doesn’t render what I want, I can just do it again.

That squirrel reminded me that we all have the ability to alter our future, just by altering our course.  So simple!

And, that is what insanity, Einstein, rats and a squirrel have in common.

Happy Thursday!