The squirrel bandit strikes again!

Studying at Zhejiang University has its perks, and one of the greatest joys is witnessing the harmonious coexistence of humans and animals on campus. The dormitory area, in particular, is beautifully landscaped, with tall trees forming lush green canopies—an ideal home for many small creatures. Among them, the most eye-catching are the lively and adorable squirrels.

They’re completely unafraid of humans, often darting up tree trunks, racing across the grass, or even climbing streetlamp poles with impressive agility, nibbling on snacks they’ve somehow found. A few years ago, social media was filled with stories about these bold little creatures: one hopping onto a balcony to steal nuts from a desk, another holding an open bottle of water with its tiny paws and drinking like a little human. Watching those videos, I always thought they were the cutest things—and secretly wished that one day, these adorable visitors would come to my dorm too.

However, an experience this summer completely changed my perception of them.

Because I had been away from school for twenty days over the summer, my roommate and I made one fatal mistake while rushing out—we forgot to close the balcony window properly. When we returned twenty days later, dragging our suitcases into the dorm, we opened the door and froze in shock at the sight before us.

The dorm was a disaster zone—it looked as if we’d been burgled. But upon closer inspection, the truth became clear: the squirrels were the culprits. On the desk, a half-finished bottle of soda had toppled over, leaving a sticky trail of sugar everywhere. Cookies and chocolates from the drawer were scattered across the floor, half-chewed and covered in tiny bite marks. Books and stationery had been knocked off the shelves, papers crumpled and smudged. And yet, that wasn’t even the worst part.

What really pushed us over the edge was the smell coming from a corner of the room—where squirrel droppings and urine were scattered everywhere, along with a few other “losses” that left us both laughing and crying. My roommate’s bar of soap, left on the sink, had been gnawed down to a tiny sliver. And my rubber mouse pad on the desk? A huge chunk had been bitten off, the edges lined with tiny, unmistakable teeth marks.

In that moment, all the “cute,”“lively,” and “harmonious” filters shattered instantly. What remained was pure shock—and a good deal of anger. The rest of the day turned into a full-scale cleanup: disinfecting, scrubbing, tossing out ruined items, and airing the room. By the end, we were sore, exhausted, but at least the dorm finally looked somewhat normal again.

After this “disaster,” my roommate and I reached a firm conclusion: squirrels are best admired from a safe distance. Their “cuteness” exists only within certain boundaries. Cross that line, and they transform into full-fledged “destruction experts.”

We also hope our painful experience serves as a warning to everyone: if you’re leaving your dorm for an extended period, please—please—remember to lock the windows! Otherwise, your cozy little nest could become a “buffet” and “playground” for squirrels, and trust me, the aftermath is something you’ll regret… big time.