Tuesday, October 30, 2007

Things You Really Don't Want

See this?

Yeah. You don't want this.

That ain't the Wall of Death in there, you furry little rat. Scram.

Right, except the little fucker can't scram. That's why he's... never mind. I got a fuckin' squirrel in my fireplace, alright? And I mean in my fireplace. Now what? I need a plan, that's what. I have no idea what the plan will be, but I know it will require a motivational soundtrack in the form of

"The Sound Waves Reversing" by Man Or Astro-Man? This will set the tone/provide the proper motivation, should you ever find yourself in a similar situation. You need just the right piece of motivational music to afford you the level of aggression you need to really get your head in the game. Find yourself a copy of this and I think you'll agree. Now picture yourself in the car on the way to the hardware store, where you're going to find something...

Rat poison? Maybe I can just toss some of that in there. Great, except I can't exactly find rat poison and the D-Con I found promises results in four to five days, and that's just for mice.

Rat trap? Waaaaiit a minute...

Yes indeed. Rat trap it shall be. To the VICTOR go the spoils of dead squirrel.

And this is where I skip the part about almost losing a finger trying to set this goddamn thing.


What - did I have to open the fireplace doors with a squirrel in there that was trying to get out?
Did I do that with one hand and try to place a really, really touchy fucking rat trap in there with the other?
What - and I didn't take a picture of that?

Sometimes he would get the shit scared out of him and scramble his way up to the flue. I opened the door and got lucky that he didn't jump at me and pull a vein out of my neck while the doors were open and I was holding an armed rat trap.

Let's not revisit that concept, 'kay?

Everything likes peanut butter, but squirrel-ass could not be persuaded. He wasn't interested. I went to bed. I heard no trap go all night. Next morning, nothing. I took off for a couple of hours in the AM, and when I came home the trap was tripped, but no sign of Moose or Squirrel. No way did little Rocky wriggle his way out of the trap. Not sure what's up now. Are you telling me this nasty little trap isn't going to work?

I saw someone on the Internet had a huge page on dealing with squirrels in your fireplace, and they put in huge letters "DO NOT TRY TO SMOKE A SQUIRREL OUT OF A CHIMNEY" so I figured I ought to give that a try.

(Well, the advice came off the Internet, right? That should've been your first sign.)

But this one sheet didn't make that much smoke and Furry McParasite didn't seem to give a shit. I didn't feel like pushing my luck with the door thing, either.

So I go in again with the trap, only this time with a couple of pumpkin seeds stuck in some peanut butter. It's freakin' Spago in there for that glorified little rodent. I opened the fireplace doors and we weren't going to revisit this concept, right? Right.

Nothing. All day long, nothing. I take off again for a couple of hours only to return to find this:

A dead squirrel. A tripped rat trap. Two separate locations.

What. The. Hell.

My guess is severe tachycardia possibly accompanied by a magnesium deficiency. But that's just a guess. I honestly don't know. Let's not question it. Let's shut the chimney cap and just move on.

No, let's shut it all the way this time, okay? Yup, the fireplace guy told you that "You might want to leave that open a little, just to create an upward draft so you don't get any soot odor in the house."

Yup. Wouldn't want any of that.

If I learned anything in all of this, it's that it feels quite odd to pick up a dead squirrel before rigor mortis has set in. Usually when you pick up an animal, it uses some of its muscles to, well, to generally keep its shape, I suppose. A dead squirrel is kind of like a lumpy bag of Jell-O brand gelatin without all the fun.

There. That's my advice for when you get one in your house. You're welcome.

1 comment:

Nato said...

I guess the whole "squirrel terrarium" idea wasn't on the table, huh?

We're lucky never to have had any rodent problems. Of course, with a dog and two cats in the house, the average rodent probably has more than enough olfactory warning that this is a place he should steer clear of. OTOH, maybe we get infiltrated all the time, and my little evil ones just do a great job of hiding the evidence.