I was sitting in the TV room this morning about 9:30 or so when I heard a power transformer fry up somewhere nearby. A second later, we were without power. We were about to head downtown for coffee anyway, so we mounted up and rode down the street on our bikes.
We were just about to the end of our street when we saw this little fellow in the street at the bottom of a telephone pole:
Boy, did he smell like singed hair. I’m sure he never knew what hit him. The local power utility just got us back on the grid about 15 minutes ago; no word on whether they took the squirrel when they left.