I pulled into the driveway of my dad’s house…the dogs barked, the horse neighed, the squirrel chattered. They were hungry. But first things first…I dropped my stuff off inside and loaded the gun. Then, went out to feed the animals.

Bless my dad, leaves his neurotic daughter a firearm that she’s never used before, so she can shoot any would-be robbers, murderers, zombies, and Amish. I’m in the middle of nowhere in Kansas. It could happen. Irrational, I know. The truth is, the only demons I’ll be fighting are the ones in my head.

After I fed all the animals, I baked a cherry cobbler.

Load gun, check. Feed animals, check. Bake cobbler, check.

They left me several pages of notes. In the section about Priscilla the squirrel, my dad inserted this: “She likes it when you rub her tummy and softly sing Blue Hawaii.” Elvis the squirrel died sometime back. That’s right, the King is dead (again). Plummeted to his death. At least that’s the theory. He might have had a drug problem. Maybe he jumped. I don’t know. Regardless, I don’t plan on singing any Elvis songs to Priscilla.

I probably need therapy for being this paranoid and neurotic… the first night 12:30 am, the garage door sounded like it was opening and startled me awake. I freaked. Barely lucid, I ran through the house with a loaded gun, pressed my ear against the door that leads to the garage. Listening. As the fog lifted from the rational part of my brain, I noted two important things: the dogs were not barking and it’s an ELECTRIC garage door. The sound happened again (all night long actually, like clockwork). It was the water rushing through the pipes. I went back to bed.

I thanked my Lucky Charms when the morning came, and I had made it through the night without accidentally shooting myself or one of the dogs.

Second night, I slept at home. I’m going back out there today to check on the animals and clean out Priscilla’s cage. Debating whether or not to give sleeping there another chance. They have something I don’t have at home. Cable. I can watch the Olympics.