
A woman was released from critical care Friday afternoon, after having survived a brutal attack by a flying squirrel. After being told she'll never walk again, Sandy Cantor of Umpqua, Oregon, told reporters she will miss her strolls through the piney woods of the Umpqua National Forest most of all.
However it was not in these woods that Sandy met her fate, but rather in her home two weeks ago, shortly after rising one morning. She reported thinking it was a glorious day, and had shuffled out to greet the dawn on her patio. With slitty eyes and bushy bedhead, she had barely opened the patio door when the flying squirrel came "out of nowhere" and attached itself to her face, putting a vice grip on her slumber-tousled hair at 10 and 2, and clutching each earlobe with its sharp little toes.
"It was horrifying," recalls Sandy, lightly touching her earlobes, "everything just went dark and the next thing I know I’m waking up in the goddamned hospital."
Further investigation revealed that the sudden attack had caused Sandy to stumble backwards, falling onto her knitting basket and causing two 15 mm gauge kitting needles to pierce her spine. Dr. Mercy, Umpqua’s leading spinal surgeon, tried everything to save her mobility, but to no avail. "It's a real shame she was working on a loose knit sweater," sighed Dr. Mercy. "Had it been even an 8mm she’d be walking out of here today."

Flying squirrels, scientifically known as Pteromyini, are not large enough to take down a human by force. Because of this they rely on the element of surprise to effectively kill and mame. However, this malicious creature isn't always intent on killing. Occasionally, it wants only to cause lasting psychological damage in its prey. It is cold and pre-meditative by nature, stalking and studying its prey's habits for weeks on end before making its move. Timing is everything, and early morning is the flying squirrel’s happy hunting time.
We never know if and when we will come face to belly with one of these magnificent creatures. All we can do is try our best to relax and enjoy life until that fateful hour is upon us, and the world goes fuzzy and dark.
This is spectacular reporting. Thank you, amuse-bouche.
ReplyDeleteno no... thank YOU a north pacific giant octopus is going to kill me... thank YOU.
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