Our lovely and talented (and Daring!) Quellia wanted to know more about that rascally chipmunk from One Egg Short.
That stituation happened to me several years ago (well, all but the Gerard Butler DVD thing--can't remember who the beefcake du jour was at the time--so it was either VHS or something on TV we watched).
I was house-and cat-sitting for a friend who was on an overseas contract. Rusty and Midge (or as I called them, Bitey and Purry) roamed the neighbourhood, occasionally bringing back souvenirs and takeaway meals from their adventures: birds usually; weird looking mutant bugs and mice, occasionally. I was always of two minds of such things--miaowy behaviour such as hunting is very much encouraged (gee--wish Mr. Bean figured out such behaviour), but the "let's pretend to give the bird a chance to get away before I swat it or break another of its bones" games is something I really, really hate...almost as much as finding the carcases in a corner--obviously put there for a later-in-the-day snack.
One night I came home to find the house in a bit of disarray--not as if someone had broken in, but as if two cats where running around, chasing each other or something else. It was late, I didn't think much of it, and I'd clean up in the morning. And then I saw these things that were a cross between Maltesers and buckshot all over the place. Then there was blur...followed by two cats.
Insert explitive *here.*
Unlike their other snacks, this one was very much alive and not injured.
Zoom zoom zoom when the rodent. Zoom zoom zoom went the cats. Zoom zoom zoom I went trying chasing the three of them. Clatter when the wastepaper basket...yes...I remember that...and the prezzies found inside the bin. I guess chasing them wasn't the smartest idea as the chipmunk probably thought it was now chased by three large things.
And then I saw it squeeze under the bathroom door's gap. I put a towel or a throw down to block the crack so chipmunk couldn't escape. The cats were quite concerned as their chasey game halted without their permission....what a mean cat-sitter I am. So there they sat in the hallway waiting for their friend to come out as I looked for something...anything to capture the silly thing. I had a live moustrap, but it was too small. I looked around for something else...and tried to think of something that would work. But nothing came to mind.
So I called a friend for advice. He showed up and very matter of factly got the wastepaper basket and a piece of light card from some sheets I got on sale and trapped the terrified little creature. He opened the door and off scampered the chipmunk into the dark of night. We locked the cat doors. (In retrospect it was very much like the "Remember This" episode from Coupling Series Three (no, nothing about a party, or Edvard Munch paintings, but the spider part)--and if you've never watched Coupling (not the one ep wonder that aired a couple of years ago, but the absolutely hillarious BBC show) go rent it.
Okay...so what does this have to do with the spring rolls pictured? No, they aren't filled with chipmunk meat.
Spring rolls...Chinese Food...Chinese New Year...Year of the Rat...Rodents...Chipmunks.
See...it all sequits.