(Sub)Urban Survival - Part Two

Where once the hand of friendship was held out to my furry grey chum, it has now been withdrawn.
Permanently.
He's taken advantage of my hospitality, of my generosity with a packet of out of date cashews.
He began inviting his friends over to share in the spoils. At one point last week, there were even three 'Steves' in the garden, loitering with malicious intent like the rodent tearaways they are. They even ruined the lawn, digging little holes to store their stash for a rainy day. I've even considered approaching the SSPCA with a view to taking out an Anti Social Behaviour Order on Steve and his treacherous gang, but I'm not sure ASBOs were designed with squirrels in mind.
I feel used, as if I've left a teenager in charge of the house while I've been on holiday, only to return to realise they've had a wild party and emptied the drinks cabinet.
Friendships don't recover from things like that.
If you thought squirrels were those cute little critters who would entertain the That's Life cameras by completing an SAS-type assault course, think again. Some squirrels have no respect.
From now on, I'm keeping my nuts to myself.