I woke up one day, and my cat was going nuts in another room. I walk in there rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, and on the window sill a squirrel is looking at me. He's having what seems to be a panic attack.
He makes a run for the top of the bookshelf. I'm wondering if I'm perhaps still dreaming. The cat is going apeshit. I then wonder how tf a squirrel got in the house. Wait are those sooty squirrel prints on my window sill?
Luckily that particular room has two doors, so I opened the second, and the door to the outside, then closed the other. That little bastard made got out of Dodge faster than Speedy Gonzales.