Exterminate the Brutes: Squirrel Attack Proves Inherent Mammalian Evil

I can’t believe I’m writing about squirrels; I was supposed to write some bull about the community creed, of all things, but while walking to get some delicious fro-yo at “That Fucking Coffee Shop” under Sarratt, I was struck by inspiration. Literally struck in the form of a beastly, unholy abomination of all that is vaccinated. Yes, faithful readers, I was struck in the head by a squirrel, and with this punishing blow, I realized that enough is enough. I have put up with the shameless foraging, the poster vandalism, and the startling jumps, but I will not allow my no-no square to be breached by some strange rat-cat hybrid.

I hereby call for a public purge of all that is squirrel from Vanderbilt University. We shall start with squirrel’s most valued asset: their food source. Lace the ground with cyanide! Let no acorn go untainted. However, we must be clever in doing so; if I have learned anything in college, it is to never underestimate the fiendish intelligence of these sins against nature. The only chance we have of succeeding is if the fiends do not know we have struck. I therefore propose a massive, coordinated preemptive strike. In the dead of night, we shall move in teams across campus leaving no room for error.
Should our massive poisoning fail, we might have to revert to less… elegant means. No, I’m not talking about fire. We should instead offer a social incentive to prompt students to take action against the invasion of these flea-ridden, wall-climbing mongrels. Let it be known to all Vanderbilt students that the most fashionable items to have on campus are genuine, free trade, organically raised VandySquirrel™ accessories. By introducing VandySquirrel™ fashion into the market, we will soon begin to rake in the blood money, and once we have enough cash, we can surely solve the infestation of the squirrels! Ok, so I actually haven’t thought about what we would exactly use the money for, but I’ve also learned at Vanderbilt that any problem can be solved with a wink and a massive check, so I’m not too worried about what happens after the money.
Go forth, my soldiers! Cleanse Vanderbilt of the demons’ vile, scratchy paws!

Student, Squirrel Safety in Concern Following Hawk Assault

A freshman’s first day of classes should be filled with merriment and wonder – a day one will not easily forget. My first day of classes was definitely memorable, but not exactly for the most conventional of reasons.  That morning, I was bestowed the distinct privilege (or punishment?) of viewing Vandy wildlife up close and personal in its most raw of forms.
As I crossed Peabody Lawn, I observed my environment: clear azure skies, majestic trees with gold-trimmed name tags (classy, right?), and Sperry clad “bros” rushing off to their 1st 8:10 Chemistry lectures and “other” locals. Despite all of these exhilarating sights, what happened to catch my eye was a lone squirrel across the lawn, foraging for nuts and, well, trash. Suddenly, from seemingly nowhere, a hawk descends, picks up its furry prey, and sails off into the blue yonder. Needless to say, I was scared shitless.
Though I was completely shocked, no one else around me seemed to notice anything amiss. It’s always times like these when you look around for reassurance and, of course, no one else has seen a thing. “Oh my God, did you see that hawk attack that squirrel?!”, “What hawk?”, “The hawk that just flew by,” “No, I didn’t see anything,” “@#*$%!” I felt so alone. But, someone else had to have seen something, right? This couldn’t have been the first hawk attack on campus. In a recent discussion with Professor Marshall Eakin at an East House dinner, I came to find out that hawk sightings, while rare, have occurred on campus before. This has led me to believe that this illustrious bird is our own Vanderbilt brand of Bigfoot: mysterious and deadly.
How can we sit back quietly as this hawk assassin goes unpunished? Our squirrel population would plummet drastically. With no squirrels, who else would unexpectedly pop out of the trashcans? We don’t have nearly enough homeless midgets to keep up that kind of initiative. And who says this ever-elusive hawk will stop with the squirrels? Chipmunks, small French dogs, and babies of every variety are all at risk. The Juggling club would no longer be able to practice outdoors and no longer dazzle passersby on their journey to class. Vanderbilt Frisbee culture would perish leading to higher alcohol and drug consumption statistics (because if you can’t play Frisbee, what else is there to do?).  Who knows? This hawk may even develop the audacity to build its nest near the site of the initial attack.  Public feather burnings in acknowledgment of the event would ensue across campus.
Furthermore, could this traumatic event be a warning from the cosmic universe? Was fate knocking at the door of my subconscious? Obviously, that welcoming feeling that Vanderbilt worked so hard to establish during orientation was out the window by this point. Am I, Kelley Raven Hines, the little squirrel soon to be devoured by Vanderbilt society?!  Would I lose myself and morph into a “Vandy girl?” Trade in my “oh-so original” Converses for a pair of cowboy boots? Eh, probably not, but it sure as hell made me think about why I’m here and what I came to accomplish.
As you can see, I’ve put way too much thought into this. So, in conclusion (actually, you should never use the phrase “in conclusion”. It makes English majors want to step on kittens. But anyway…), I’ll leave my fellow class of 2014 with a little advice: be smart, be yourselves, work hard, and look out, because a giant bird might kill you.

Baby squirrels Stop Traffic

Wednesday, October 21st: Pedestrian traffic between Furman and Neeley came to a standstill as students and faculty stopped to look at an abandoned baby squirrel, wandering around a large magnolia tree.  The group of largely-female bystanders stood in awe, watching the pathetic animal wander from person to person, desperately wanting love and attention, any at all. 

“Oh my god!” Exclaimed XXX XXX, a sophomore, before tearing herself away and heading to class.  “Poor thing!  It’s so adorable!  I wonder what’s wrong with it?” Other students had identified the squirrel as wandering the vicinity since about 11 am that morning. 

With winter fast approaching and baby squirrels learning to fend for themselves, such unabashed examples of pure adorability and helplessness are not uncommon.  Last month, a baby squirrel famously stopped all traffic in a 20-yard radius after it was found mewing for help outside of Cole, forcing all inhabitants of the building to rush outside and start a campus-wide search for a cardboard box, bedding, and baby formula.  A fight even broke out over who would be able to keep the “adorable cutie-pie,” and what its name would be. The fight ended with three casualties and the disappearance of the baby squirrel.

At about 3 pm, when this new baby squirrel refused all attempts to place it back in a tree and began tragically climbing up the legs of any passersby who could possibly be a warm and safe comfort from the hundreds of stomping feet and nearby lawnmowers, a concerned group of students started a task group to decide what was to be done.  YYY YYY, a senior, stood cupping the baby squirrel in her arms, who was desperately trying to burrow into the warmth of her sweater. 

“I had stopped to look at him and see what was happening when he ran up my leg and up on my shoulder,” YYY said. YYY went on to explain that when she tried to remove him, he just gamely clutched onto her sweater with a single tiny paw.  “I couldn’t just go to class when he was sitting there all alone!  I knew something must be done.” 

A group of students 111, 222, 333, and YYY (NOTE: all women), banded together to decide what to do with the squirrel.  “We couldn’t just leave him there with all those lawnmowers!” said 111, a junior.  “I mean, I had homework and everything, but I couldn’t just turn my head when such awful things are happening in the world!”  The task force spent a grueling hour and half petting, feeding, and taking pictures of the adorable shivering ball of cuteness before 333 made contact with a wildlife rehabilitation center which agreed to take the thing. 

“Heroes?  Maybe,” Said YYY, watching a grown squirrel singlehandedly carry an entire pizza up a tree.  “Inasmuch as anyone who saves the life of a living creature can be considered a hero.  We may have all sacrificed class today, but if we had gone to class, we would have sacrificed a life.  An adorable, precious, ickle baby life.”

Squirrels Upset Over Prevalence of Students

As classes started at Vanderbilt University, the squirrels are adjusting to another year. There are many differences; for example, a new meal plan which limits nut consumption to a mere 14 nuts a week. In addition, new squirrels in the area were barred until last Friday from entering the trees on Greek Row, a notorious place for older squirrels to party on the weekends. However, the biggest adjustment to life at Vanderbilt is the presence of humans everywhere on campus.

“It’s a little strange,” said a first year Squirrel History major. “I mean, I come from a forest, so all the humans keep startling me as they scurry around campus.”

Other squirrels do not mind the constant presence of humans.

“I think they are adorable,” said a third year Digging for Nuts and Seeds major. “The way they walk around on two feet is weird, and the way they nibble at their food is so cute!”

However, since human infestations can often get out of control, especially at college campuses, the dean of Squirrel Studies recently reassured squirrels and their parents about the precautions taken by the university.

“While humans and other wildlife do add to the natural beauty and charm of Vanderbilt University, we do have our Chewing Engineering majors at the ready to chew through electrical cords. Massive power outages in human nests are an easy way to cut back on the number of humans on campus.”

Many squirrels applauded this preparedness on the part of the university.

“I think they are on the right track,” said the coach of the Flying Squirrels team. “Just the other day, I was scavenging for food in a trash can, when a human threw something at me! They’ve got to be stopped.”

However, a professor of Wildlife Studies has argued for the protection of humans.

“By studying their behavior, we can figure out how to relocate some humans, as well as how to keep them safe,” she said in a SquirrelMail message addressed to the university population.

Vanderbilt University can only hold 4,5000 humans comfortably, and if the number goes up, the humans will experience a lack of food sources as well as diseases resulting from their proximity.

“Many humans go hungry throughout the week as they scavenge for flex meals and free pizza at club meetings,” said a graduate squirrel in the Wildlife Studies department. “Then, on the weekends, calorie consumption rises drastically when they drink beer. We believe it is the only way they can survive, especially during the long, cold winters.”

The human problem at Vanderbilt still looms, but the University is taking careful consideration to ensure the protection of the squirrels, and if possible, the humans as well.