A vvarmint will never quit – ever. They’re like the Viet Cong ...,
–Carl Spackler
The squirrel looked in the window at us, unafraid, as if to say, “Hey! I can’t get in!”
We had succeeded, finally, after years of failed efforts, in keeping him and his scampering brethren out of our attic. Now this one peered in at us, trying to look as cute and un-rodent-like as he could. He was kind of pulling it off.
Homeownership is filled with menace (besides Comcast customer service). Our newest threat is a chipmunk, or in this case, ‘munks. They began showing themselves about two years ago, very near the time when our Cairn Terrier Gus passed on to that big rock pile in the sky.
One day, I came home and spotted one in our driveway. He looked at me for a moment and then disappeared into the bushes. “He’s a cute little guy,” I thought. Even KM, who believes most four-legged creatures (and many two-legged ones) are descendants of rats, gave out a sincere little “aww.”
All those warm feelings changed last Christmas, when our lights began acting funny and one of our ovens went out. After spending what I knew was an expensive amount of time under our house, the electrician told me something had chewed on the wires.
“Something?”
“Yes.”
“Care to expound on that?”
“Well, there are a few possibilities, but have you seen any chipmunks around your yard?”
After fixing the wires and offering tips on what to do about the rodents, our electrician drove away. And I didn’t think about it again.
Until about three weeks ago, when the lights in the kitchen began acting funny. I looked out at our back yard, with the same deep stare Chief Brody gave the ocean from the shores of Amity.
What I saw was a theme park for squirrels, chipmunks, and rabbits, not to mention many different birds and one big fat Copperhead, whom I hoped would feast on a chipmunk or two.
I called the electrician back while KM went Googling, to research what other victims of chipmunks said worked best for them. She came back later with some options, recommending one in particular.
“Most of them swear by something known as ‘Walking the Plank.’”
“Do you dress up like a pirate wench?” I asked.
“Shut up and listen. We need a bucket, a short board, and some sunflower seeds. You fill the bucket with water, place it strategically in your yard, lean the board against it, and cover it and the top of the water with the seeds. They eat their way up until - splash! People say it never fails,” she finished with a look that was scaring me a little.
“So, chipmunks can’t swim?”
“Oh, they can swim, but like anything else, they’ll eventually get tired and sink.”
“God, that sounds pretty mean.”
“Would you rather have them chew through your wires, starting a fire, so we burn up in our sleep?”
“Uh, let me think about it.”
Before our electrician came back out to survey the damage, KM and I headed to Wal-Mart in search of some Pest-B-Gone. We pulled in to the big parking lot, and I found a spot well lit, so I’d still have wheels attached to my Honda after shopping.
Inside the store, I browsed the “Guaranteed to get rid of all pests” products while KM took it to another level. She soon returned with a big plastic owl, which really didn’t look that fake. I was skeptical, but at least it didn’t involve drowning.
Jay Edwards is editor-in-chief of the Hamilton County Herald and an award-winning columnist. Contact him at jedwards@dailydata.com.
A
vvarmint will never quit – ever. They’re like the Viet Cong ...,
–Carl Spackler
The squirrel looked in the window at us, unafraid, as if to say, “Hey! I can’t get in!”
We had succeeded, finally, after years of failed efforts, in keeping him and his scampering brethren out of our attic. Now this one peered in at us, trying to look as cute and un-rodent-like as he could. He was kind of pulling it off.
Homeownership is filled with menace (besides Comcast customer service). Our newest threat is a chipmunk, or in this case, ‘munks. They began showing themselves about two years ago, very near the time when our Cairn Terrier Gus passed on to that big rock pile in the sky.
One day, I came home and spotted one in our driveway. He looked at me for a moment and then disappeared into the bushes. “He’s a cute little guy,” I thought. Even KM, who believes most four-legged creatures (and many two-legged ones) are descendants of rats, gave out a sincere little “aww.”
All those warm feelings changed last Christmas, when our lights began acting funny and one of our ovens went out. After spending what I knew was an expensive amount of time under our house, the electrician told me something had chewed on the wires.
“Something?”
“Yes.”
“Care to expound on that?”
“Well, there are a few possibilities, but have you seen any chipmunks around your yard?”
After fixing the wires and offering tips on what to do about the rodents, our electrician drove away. And I didn’t think about it again.
Until about three weeks ago, when the lights in the kitchen began acting funny. I looked out at our back yard, with the same deep stare Chief Brody gave the ocean from the shores of Amity.
What I saw was a theme park for squirrels, chipmunks, and rabbits, not to mention many different birds and one big fat Copperhead, whom I hoped would feast on a chipmunk or two.
I called the electrician back while KM went Googling, to research what other victims of chipmunks said worked best for them. She came back later with some options, recommending one in particular.
“Most of them swear by something known as ‘Walking the Plank.’”
“Do you dress up like a pirate wench?” I asked.
“Shut up and listen. We need a bucket, a short board, and some sunflower seeds. You fill the bucket with water, place it strategically in your yard, lean the board against it, and cover it and the top of the water with the seeds. They eat their way up until - splash! People say it never fails,” she finished with a look that was scaring me a little.
“So, chipmunks can’t swim?”
“Oh, they can swim, but like anything else, they’ll eventually get tired and sink.”
“God, that sounds pretty mean.”
“Would you rather have them chew through your wires, starting a fire, so we burn up in our sleep?”
“Uh, let me think about it.”
Before our electrician came back out to survey the damage, KM and I headed to Wal-Mart in search of some Pest-B-Gone. We pulled in to the big parking lot, and I found a spot well lit, so I’d still have wheels attached to my Honda after shopping.
Inside the store, I browsed the “Guaranteed to get rid of all pests” products while KM took it to another level. She soon returned with a big plastic owl, which really didn’t look that fake. I was skeptical, but at least it didn’t involve drowning.
Jay Edwards is editor-in-chief of the Hamilton County Herald and an award-winning columnist. Contact him at jedwards@dailydata.com. v