Known Status: Squirrel living in roof above front porch. Hole located.

Objective:  Chase out squirrel and seal hole temporarily with hardware cloth.

Mission: FAIL

I had been hearing some strange noises, scratching, etc, while I am siting in the living room near the front window.  Last Sat, the noises change.  Scattering.  I enter the porch and listen.  The skitter scatter of little rodent feet!!  I have a snow shovel (sad and lonely this season so far, fine by me) propped near the door.  I pick it up and bang on the ceiling and the thing runs like mad. I bang and bang and chase the thing.  My neighbor walking by: “Got a squirrel problem?”  Witness, Lovely.  She sees it take off up the roof and into the big fir tree.  A little red one she says.  Terrors they are.  I walk around the corner to the side he vacated from and sure enough, there is a whole.  Right under where the roof of the house hangs over the porch roof.

FABULOUS.

Like any smart and motivated girl of my generation I jump to the task:  I call Dad and hop online for my squirrel solution.

I need a few things:  staples for my staple gun . . .  how am I always out?  Why does it feel like I am constantly buying staples for this things?  And hardware cloth.  That’s what the roofer dude online said.  Stronger and thinner mesh than chicken wire.  Ok!

Well, I was loosing sun pretty quick on Sat, and Sunday was in no condition . . .  so Monday I get all my supplies and Dad comes over with his big Werner multi-purpose ladder.  GAME ON!

I show him where I saw the hole.  Which is funny, cause we just looked at that spot a couple of months ago when we thought we saw a squirrel run up in that corner.  No hole then.  And Dad did my gutters just a few weeks ago.  No hole then either.  Apparently these guys work fast.

Dad asks about the other side.  So glad he did.  YEPPP!  We have a matching set.  I also have a hole in the bag that is old.  I do not know if it is being used.  Plan there is to stuff the hole with newspaper and watch for it to be disturbed.  No disruption?  No activity, can go right ahead and seal it up.

With all holes located, Dad stands outside while I start banging on the ceiling.  Definitely in there!  but not for long.  Thing takes off out of the north corner.

We get to work.  Seal up the larger south corner hole first.  Then move on to the second hole.  finish up with the stuffing job in the back.  Dad heads home. I make tea and curl up on the couch.  Mission accomplished.

Oh, if I only knew then . . .

I start to here scratching noises over in the north corner.  I step out and sure enough, I hear the metal mesh being clawed at.  I go inside and grab the flash light to see if I can catch the critter trying to get in.  Maybe if I scare him a few time that would discourage his attempts to get back in for the night.

I step out shine the light up there . . .  nothing. Must have scared him off.  Go back inside . ..   here comes the noise again, louder this time, sounds more frantic.  Again I grab the flash light and head out side.  Shine the light up  . . .

NO!  no no no no no !

What have I done?

The poor thing is STILL INSIDE!!  Trapped inside. Trying desperately to get out. Or had been.  With the light shining right on him he is frozen still.

The poor thing had sandwiched itself between the netting and the roof.  Squeezed flat.  I could tell the head end only because I could tell the tail end.  Pressing against that wire grid his fur pushed out in all sorts of directions.  MAN they are teeny.  Flat as a pancake he was.  Looked like road kill.  I thought for two seconds that it had actually squeezed himself to death getting in that position.  But alas, i moved the light for a split second and he was gone.  Back into his hole.

How did this happen?!!  So stupid.  Should have given a bang on the ceiling before in between holes.  He must have slipped back in.  But it just seemed so unlikely he would run back in with all the noise.  We were really noisy,

What’s a girl to do?

DAAAAADDDDD!!!!!!!!!!  I am sure he loves these phone calls.

Now of corse my father is not burdened by the “I have done harm to a fuzzy thing” panic I am experiencing.  Not that my father has a disrespect for life, I would guess he would say I just have an over sensitivity.  We discuss the options and he strongly feels it could and should wait til morning.

If I give the guy a way out tonight, he will just be relieved to have a way out and will not leave.  Its sleep time.  He is where he wants to be right now.  Dad assures me he will settle down and it can be dealt with in the morning.  At which point being trapped for over 12 hours might give the guy second thoughts from going back in.

Ok.  Father knows best.  I hunker down and try not to think of that image of the poor creature trapped against the hardware cloth.

He was quiet for a while.   Pretty sure the flashlight right into his eyes gave him an extra scare.

But then he started making noise again.  Surprisingly not vocal.  No screeching or clucking, just banging, scratching and gnawing.  Hate the gnawing sounds.  It’s like a broken record tormenting you with the repeating words: more damage, more damage, more damage, more damage.  And now the noises are not near either exit point.  He’s just gnawing on stuff up there.  Well, that’s fine (not really). . . but you keep it up there my friend.  No chewing your way inside.  Got it?

oh, now he moved back to the exit.  Oh!  No . . .  now he is in the middle of the ceiling . . .  Yeah, he is pretty freaked out.  Actually, as I listened I started think:  He is.  He actually is trying to chew his way out.  AT THE CEILING LIGHT!!  I pop my head out  and listen.  Sure enough, he is directly at the light.  And he is busy.

I am torn at this.  I don’t want the damage.  I don’t want  a squirrel in my porch.  Should I bang on the ceiling to discourage him?  or will that freak the trapped creature out even more?  yeah, I think I should leave him alone.  Just in case I however prop the outer door open a few inches so he can get out.  I don’t want to walk out into a squirrel attack in the morning.

I can’t help think this would be an ideal time to rip open an escape hole for him in the netting, while he is busy else where.   But I stick to the plan.  Amanda and ladders are a bad mix.  Amanda and ladders in the dark?  Yeah I just can’t go there.

As I think about it, it really isn’t a complete failure.  I had asked Dad who won today, us or the squirrel.  His response:  Its a draw.  And truly it is.  Our patch job was good enough he wasn’t getting out.  So had be been out . . . he wouldn’t have been getting back in.  He just happened to be in . . .   which isn’t what I want.  But I don’t think this is what he wanted either.

And now I am jumpy.  I hear noise coming from the complete opposite side of the house and I freak out.  “It got in!  It’s the squirrel!!”   Nope, that would be flipper, the roommate’s bird down in the basement.  Yeah . . . I think it is time to retire to the bedroom.  Stop listening to and for the squirrel.  Only one of us needs to be this worked up.