It was cute when it was sitting on the porch. It was rather
shocking because it looked monstrous, but still cute when it was at my kitchen window, peaking in.
But when a fuzzy little brown squirrel decided that the eves underneath the
roof would be a good place to store its nuts, then it wasn’t cute any more. It
was war.
 |
| Peaking in my kitchen window |
Eventually I got a new roof put on but the eves were not
repaired. Using their nifty little teeth, a crafty squirrel or squirrels seized
upon this wonderful opportunity to gain entry into the crawl spaces of my house
and ran wild. What was at first a very small hole, maybe big enough for birds,
was now a very large unsightly gaping hole big enough for the squirrelly squatter (which is what I soon took to calling it) to get
in. Every morning at around the same time, I could hear it up there, scratching
and scurrying around. The sound itself was very disconcerting, and made more so
by the fact that it was over my head. I felt very vulnerable. I was quite sure
that any minute, I would have the frenzied animal down on my head, scratching
and biting at me. I must say I kind of freaked out about it momentarily.
While I had little funds to hire someone to fix the problem,
I did get a nephew to patch up what I felt was the worst spot. All was quiet.
This lasted about two or three days. But the "Dark Invader" (well, the reference was too good to pass up) was too smart for
me. He was not to be denied. Undaunted by this new development, he chewed
himself a new doorway. I heard him very loudly gnawing and chewing again the
following morning. I was frustrated. It seemed like the squirrels would win. I felt I could win by ingenuity.
Always the problem-solver, I wracked my brain to figure out
a way to keep out my furry new "frenenemy". I could hear him arranging his new
home (well at least that’s what it sounded like. I was almost sure that I heard
tiny squirrel furniture being arranged up there). As the leak in the roof had
caused some damage to the ceiling tile in the library where all this noise was
going on, and there were also some loosened boards above it as well, I thought
I may be able to use this to my advantage. Knowing that animals don’t like the
smell of smoke, I thought perhaps a little fake-out might suffice to put him on
the run. But I needed something to make the smoke go up into the rafters. I
managed to rig up an ingenious contraption that Rube Goldberg may be proud of,
using my broom, a ruler taped to it with foil tape to lengthen it and leftover
plastic drain hose. This was attached to a funnel I fashioned out of two
aluminum roaster. All this to make the smoke waft up into the rafters. Not
wanting to start a full-blown fire and burn the house down, I used some
lavender-scented incense. I thought three or four at a time might do the trick.
After the incense burned down, I waited for a response. Did
he leave? I listened for any sign of him high-tailing it out. Nope. I feel sure
now that the lavender just put him in the mood for a relaxing bath and some
mood music.
Undaunted and more determined than ever to rid my domain of
this unwanted (albeit cute and fuzzy) guest, I planned my next “attack” Now
just to be clear, I like squirrels…when they are not in my house. I like how
they pick up little bits of food and nibble at it with tiny little hands. Oh so
cute. And how they bounce and bound around carefree in parks and green yards
all over the city. I would never purposefully hurt a squirrel. I just needed it
out of my house. Next, I took to the internet for ideas to successfully and
humanely end this stand-off. One word got my attention. Chili peppers. With
some hesitation, I decided to try it. I reasoned that it was not harmful and
just might work to let him know that he was not welcome. Going to my cupboard I
rifled though the spice shelf to see what sort of a “recipe” I could come up
with. I use a lot of spices when I took, so I do have quite an assortment. In
an extra plastic spice bottle, I concocted a spicy mix of chili powder, white
pepper, black pepper and some crushed red peppers. Just for extra measure I put
some liquid hot sauce in another bottle.
The day I decided to have a face-off with the squirrelly
squatter, we had had another one of Michigan’s
famous snow storms. It had been snowing for three days and most of the schools
were closed around town. It was seven degrees out and the ground was covered
with two feet of snow. But I was determined. It was on. Tramping through this,
I went to get out one of my other contraptions; a long pole I rigged last year
to remove icicles along the eves of the house (one of home ownership’s downsides)
out of the shed. After dropping my gloves in the snow a few times and
struggling a bit, I attached the spice bottle to the end of the pole with one
of the rubber bands. Standing on my tiptoes in order to just reach the hole, I
managed after a few tries to sprinkle some of the chili powder mixture into the
gaping crevice. Getting frustrated with the fact that the bottle kept sliding
down the pole, I took it off and threw it up on the roof. “That’ll teach em,” I
said to myself, feeling just a little sheepish.
My fingers turning a bit blue now, I returned the stuff to
the shed and headed for some cocoa and maybe some quiet. Sitting down and
sipping my hot cocoa, I waited for
something to happen. It didn’t take long. Within a just few minutes, I heard
thumping, skittering about, then a loud crashing sound along the eves and what
sounded like wood being broken, like he was making yet another doorway to his
digs. I am quite sure the sound I heard was him packing his bags (which of
course would be full of nuts) and throwing them up on the roof (no, really. I
swear). Yes! I have vanquished the foe using the invisible force.....of hotness.
It’s been a week now and I have not heard a sound up there.
My assumption was that he had found the chili powder, and headed for a more fitting lair (like a tree. Damn it, you’re a squirrel!). Well either that or he liked it so much he
went to find somebody with some habaneros.
Hopefully I won this war and not just the battle, because I am out of
chili powder and new contraption ideas. It’s
a long time until spring, when he will be wanting to frolic outside. He could
be sitting at my dinner table soon, demanding a nut casserole or something if
he manages to chew his way through (and some chai tea to go with the lavender
incense). Failing this, I should just concede defeat, sign him over the deed to
my house (along with the tax bill and show him where the lawnmower is) and move
to sunny Florida. Do they have
squirrels there?
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