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Two-Headed Boy

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    Random Thoughts...

    in supertrash

    Posted

    I had another long day at work,

    but

    today was special.

    So, lunch had just ended and me, my co-counselor and my group of 11 fifth graders moseyed on down to the other side of camp, near where the climbing wall is located. It's in between a baseball field (fenced off) and a group of picnic tables. The wall itself is located on the back of the YMCA. So, as I'm watching over my group playing soccer with a bunch of other like minded fourth or fifth graders, one of my kids, Andres yells over to me "MAX, LOOK WHAT I FOUND!"

    Point of interest: Andres is ten years old. Andres has severe ADHD that required in the past an aide watching over him independently of the counselors. He has a history of random violence towards other campers and is generally a poorly behaved child, but in an endearing almost-retarded manner.

    So I turn around, I'm about 15-20 ft from him, he is over by the picnic tables clutching something between his two hands. I think to myself, "Oh shit, he must've found a dead bird or squirrel or something" This was only 1/2 true. He then proceeds to put whatever he has in his hands down on the picnic table bench and it turns out to be a chipmunk. I think again "God dammit", so I start to walk over while simultaneously telling him to leave it alone in my commanding baritone and he begins to back off. When I get to about five feet from Andres and about eight or nine feet from the picnic table, the chipmunk, which was curled up begins to do fucking back flips and going into an epileptic fit (or the chipmunk equivalent).

    At this point I realize something's up. I bark at Andres to continue backing up and call over another counselor to help me sort of "quarantine" the situation before the children start running over. Just as I call him over, the chipmunk flips a shit and falls off the picnic bench onto the woodchips and continues to seize as if it was having a fit. I get in a little closer, about five feet from the animal, and I begin to inspect it. Mind you this is all within five minutes or so. So, I'm looking at the little thing and I notice its nose is bleeding and it appears to be gnawing on its paw or arm. Obviously there was more to this than just a hurt chipmunk. I ask my counselor in training who's still over playing with the kid to quickly take Andres to the bathroom while I have another counselor help me get a camp director into the situation because at this point, I'm fucking freaked that we might have a case of rabies on our hands - in a fucking chipmunk.

    Andres goes with the CIT, I sorta wall off the area with the chipmunk, and call over a few other counselors to help me out. At this point the children are intrigued and start running over, but not before I bellow at them to sit down on the other picnic tables about thirty feet away and wait till we know what's going on.

    Within a minute or two of my yelling, a director shows up and I start relating the story. All the while, this little chipmunk has slowly been going through it's death throws and inching along the ground in no particular direction in a spasmodic fashion (which at this point was receding into labored breathing), and there's little drops of blood everywhere. So, we start to hypothesize what might've happened to this little rodent. Maybe a bird got it and it escaped, but not without wounds - or maybe it had fallen - we didn't really know at that point. The head director came down and I grabbed a plastic beach bucket from a nearby shed, and he scooped the chipmunk into it and began to make his way towards a more remote part of camp.

    Now it turns into like a Hitchcock film where you don't get to see the fate of the chipmunk. But I got to hear the directors blow-by-blow over the walkie talkies. And so, the chipmunk was taken out back, apparently while the director was in transit, started foaming at the mouth and convulsing, and he killed it - though I do not know the extent of how or what he did to kill it.

    Animal control is called and I'm waiting around, about 20 minutes now since the incident started and my kid shows up. He starts relating the story to the directors of how he chased it along the climbing wall and grabbed it just before it was going to run up into a storm drain - which begs the question, did my kid just hurt it and thats what was going on? - but grabbed it before it could run up. So I have my co-counselor take him to the nurse because at this point, I'm spooked, but not spooked enough to not act on it.

    I proceeded to take my kids to the next activity and try and dispel the rumors as much as I could, but fifth graders know better.

    Anyways, it turns out, once my co-counselor and Andres returned, that Andres had, in that one in a million chance, scratched himself on the storm drain and broken the skin as he grabbed the chipmunk, essentially turning himself into a potential biohazard. So, his mother was called, yaddayaddayadda, and now the chipmunk has to be tested to see if it has rabies because the kid is in danger (superficially at least, it can be treated easily enough), but damn, was the fucking one in a million.

    As far as I know, the kid is fine and was returned to me an hour or so later, and the chipmunk is being tested, but what I find really funny is that there has never been a reported case of a chipmunk contracting rabies EVER in the state of Connecticut.

    Fuck that.

    epic story! mabye the chipmunk was posesed?

    0

    island help

    in supershopper

    Posted

    Just make sure the natives come pre-killed, a friend of mine had to fly back home to hire some muscle to get rid of them. Luckily they were a peaceful uncontacted tribe so it was not too difficult

    its better to keep them, they will build you casinos.

    0
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