Wednesday, January 30, 2013

The Day of the Squirrel

Everybody has a squirrel or chipmunk story.  Everybody.  One of my favorite moments in the PBS Reality Show Frontier House is when Mark, who has broken his back breaking sod to plant some summer crops, takes a stand regarding small varmints raiding his plants.  “I’m going to come out here and blow some heads off,” said the former Tennessee teacher.  We all know how destructive squirrels and chipmunks are; they may be cute but man, are they problematic.  I have a red squirrel that has taken up residence in the barn.  He’s living off dropped grain and has yet to start destroying tack, but that’s just around the corner, as Larry keeps pointing out.  When I went out to the barn this weekend and the squirrel was sitting on a barn beam, where the cat usually sits, chattering away and mocking me, I knew it was time to get serious.

I have used rat traps in the past but the results are so ugly.  And we have a feral cat in the area who we are quite fond of, and I didn’t want to inadvertently hurt him instead.  I tried a glue trap once, but the mouse that got stuck to it was still alive, so I tried to get it unstuck and the whole thing ended up like an episode of I Love Lucy.  So Sunday night I set out a small Havahart trap in the tack room, put a glob of peanut butter on the inside, and waited to see what happened.

Yesterday at evening feed, I had caught the little bugger.  And man, was he P.O.ed.  He threw himself around in the cage, clinging to the wire like a little demented Jimmy Cagney threatening to kill me if he ever got out.  I left him in the cage, my plan being that in the morning I would take him into town somewhere and turn him loose.

And so events today transpired as such:

7:00 a.m.  Squirrel in cage looks like he is dying.  One eye is swelled shut and he is huddled in a corner of the cage, breathing rapidly.  Damn it!  Why couldn’t he have just died if that was what he was going to do?  I don’t want him to suffer.  Now I feel bad.  No, don’t feel bad.  He’s a destructive rodent.  Take him to the other side of the Northway and turn him loose. 

7:10 a.m.  I don’t think the squirrel would live if I just kicked him out somewhere.  He isn’t moving unless I poke him.  Maybe I should just let him loose outside.  He’s probably going to die anyway.  I take the cage out of the barn on the path, open the end, and put him by a tree, thinking he’s going to leave the cage and scamper up the tree to terrorize me another day.

7:20 a.m.  Walking back to the house, I think:  Well, stupid, let’s say he does leave the trap and goes up the tree, then you’re no better off!  He’s still going to get destructive in the barn!  And then you’re NEVER going to trap him again because now he knows the game!  Duh!  Better go get the trap, if he hasn’t already run out, and do something with him, I don’t know what now.

7:25 a.m.  Squirrel is still in trap, still huddled in corner, still breathing rapidly.  But having hydrated slightly by being the snow seems to have rejuvenated him a tiny bit.  Still looks like he’s on death’s door.  Why won’t he die already?  He’s ruining my day!

7:30 a.m.  Throw Havahart trap with heaving squirrel in back of truck for ride into town.

8:15 a.m.  Get ready to drive to work, look at squirrel in trap.  He lifts his head a little when I look at him.  The ride in the back of the truck will be flippin’ cold, that may kill him off.  Oh screw it, I put the cage in the front seat of the truck.  But I don’t secure him with the seat belt.  I don’t like him that much.  I do tell him that village living is much more interesting – there are more houses, more squirrels to fight with and the always exciting traffic to dodge.  He should be looking at this as an opportunity.

8:30 a.m.  I arrive at work and shuttle the squirrel to the side porch of our building.  I see one of our neighborhood cats glide through the snow in the backyard.  He may have easy pickings today.  I set the cage down and open the end, hoping the clear view of trees will be enough to encourage him to make his move. 

9:00 a.m.  I check and the squirrel is still huddled in the corner, not making a move.  I poke him and he gives me an indignant look.  He does scuttle out of the cage and hides under some wood piled on the porch a few feet away.

9:30 a.m.  I tell my boss Cherie and tenant-lawyer Mark about my morning.  Cherie says I’m letting my guilt get the better of me, I’m over-thinking the whole thing and that her husband catches his wretched squirrels with glue traps.  Mark rolls his eyes at me and proceeds to tell me about all the insulation in his attic that needs to be replaced because of rodent damage.  I know they’re right.  I decide if he's back in the cage, I’m just going to dump the stupid thing out of the trap into the snowbank and let the chips fall where they may.

10:00 a.m.  The squirrel is gone.  I can see tracks in the fresh snow where he made his way towards some trees and the back of the building. 

I didn’t need a Disney ending.  I just didn’t want to know that I was responsible for his demise, although I suppose I certainly can be.  Oh well.  We all have soft spots.  I have no doubt there are relatives of his to take his place in the barn.  It’s just a matter of time.

12 comments:

  1. I'll bet he climbed underneath the truck and hitched a ride back home.

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  2. Should you feel the need to do a live release in the future, there is a colony of red squirrels living in the woods behind the baseball field at the Fish and Game Club. All members of the said aforementioned colony have been trapped in my attic, driven "to the other side of the Northway" (LOL - like that works), and released. These actions were taken in part as retribution for the town squirrels that Bunny releases up around Bullet Pond, and in part so we can get some sleep when they get into the house. I'll have to try peanut butter. I use bird seed, which they spray all over the attic when they get caught. (I'm embarrassed to admit that it took me a while to think up bird seed as squirrel bait. Let's see; what do squirrels like to eat? Duh.)

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    1. It's interesting to think that we're all just squirrel swapping. Larry says Cuomo should set a tax for all squirrels being transported over the Northway. He also said I can borrow his shotgun next time.

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  3. Beti, you make me smile. Love your writing. I have a squirrel story but it's more like a "you had to be there" tale (no pun intended).

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  4. Remember: Squirrels are just rats with nicer clothes!

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    1. That is the truth! Thanks for that poke back into reality, Will!

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  5. "But I don’t secure him with the seat belt."

    That about sums up my ability to, er, eliminate pests. Yeah, take 'em for a ride without a seatbelt. That'll show 'em.

    This is why, though I live in northern Wisconsin, I am a writer instead of a farmer. Just can't kill stuff (though I have no problem if someone else does. Especially if they're doing it to feed me, thank you very much.)

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    1. Yeah, I think my snub at not buckling him in went completely unappreciated. Squirrels just don't seem to get irony.

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    2. As a confidence trickster, though, this one seems to excel. I have children who get less attention in one day than he did.

      Any chance the novel you're working on is along these lines, similar to the blog? Followed a trail here from Write to Done comments, and glad I did.

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    3. Ha! No, my slowly germinating novel isn't blog-related, but it's a good idea! And thanks for your comments; it's nice to know how you "found" me!

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  6. hey beti, i hope your squirrel didn't end up in my attic. if I hear any noises up there will you help me get it out???? your neighbor, Ann

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