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I’m just about to go insane with squirrels in the house. I think we’ve taken care of the problem, and then it starts up again, and the kids and I are being terrorized by the maddening gnawing and running and crashing going on above our heads. It started with a squirrel in the house last spring. The first time we heard the noise, my son had just returned from a sleep-over at a friend’s house, and they of course had watched a scary movie. Hearing chewing and running sounds above his room early in the morning, while it was still dark, just about threw him into a screaming fit. I climbed up into the attic to see what was going on, and saw the flash of a little bushy tail as the squirrel in the house scampered across the attic space.
I tried everything I could to get rid of it, from making sure the vent was open so it could escape to setting out poisoned bait. It still woke us up all night and early morning with its constant noise. When I investigated again, the attic space was a mess. Boxes had been chewed into. It had gnawed on the soffits and joints. Squirrel droppings were littered everywhere. I’m not very handy. In fact, I’m kind of useless when it comes to this kind of thing, so I wasn’t surprised that my efforts hadn’t worked.
I had a friend come over, who’s a lot handier at this kind of thing. But, he just ended up doing exactly what I’d done. This time, though, it worked. The noises stopped for a while, and I realized the squirrel was probably dead. By this time, it was winter, so I didn’t think about it too much. The kids and I were just happy the noises had stopped and we could finally sleep all night through.
When it warmed up, though, I was reminded we’d had a squirrel in the house. Since we don’t go in the attic that much, we didn’t have to deal with the odor. But, the invasion of flies reminded me of the death above. I begged another friend to come over and help me get rid of the dead squirrel in the house, and she and I managed it, even though we gagged the whole time. I thought that was the end of it.
Now that it’s fully into spring, we have squirrels in the house again. This time, there’s more of them. A nest, maybe? The constant noise is awful, and I am afraid to even think about the damage they’re doing. No more calling favors in, and begging friends to help. I’m going to get a professional. I’ll call Allstate Animal Control, get the squirrels out of my house, get the damage repaired, and get it all cleaned up upstairs. If this goes on much longer, I really will go insane.
A woodpecker in our tree is a science lesson, but a woodpecker on the house is a disaster. My two children love our little science projects. I’m the kind of mother who’s more worried about the cleanup than the project itself. If it’s messy and the kids are happy and learning, then it’s completely worth it. So, we make rain storms in bottles and water splashes on our floor that has to be mopped up. We make dinosaur tracks and toy car tracks through colored salt dough, that dries up into tiny little specks that have to be vacuumed. We liberally sprinkle glitter and feathers over art projects covered in glue. My preschool-aged children adore learning, and are starting to get to the point where they are asking endless questions about the world around them. I don’t mind cleaning up after my children’s science projects. I do, however, mind cleaning up after the woodpecker on the house.
We were straightening up the front room, getting ready for a playgroup, when I spotted the woodpecker on our tree in the front yard. It was beautiful, with spots on its chest and a red crest. I couldn’t believe my luck, since I had just taught the children about woodpeckers two days earlier. I excitedly called them over to the window, and we spent fifteen minutes watching the woodpecker listen for bugs in the tree, then confidently tapping away and grabbing the bugs up in its beak. The front room didn’t get straightened up to my usual standards before the playgroup showed up, but it was worth the chance to watch nature.
Then, when we all went outside to play, I was chatting with one of the other mothers and noticed small black specks on the side of my house, up by one of the second story windows. Coming down from the black specks were streaks of brown and reddish black. The woman I was talking with told me they had the same thing. “You have a woodpecker on your house.” Now, I was all excited to see the woodpecker in our tree this morning, but thinking of it pecking small holes into the side of my home, and bird feces staining the side of the house, really annoyed me. Just an hour before, I had thought of the woodpecker as a stately and interesting bird, and shared my love of nature with my children. Now that I know that woodpecker was on the house, possibly we even had a woodpecker in the house, it became a nuisance that must be taken care of.
Unfortunately, I also knew that most woodpeckers are protected. I couldn’t just pull out the bee bee gun. If only it had been content in my tree, I would have been just fine. But, a woodpecker on my house is an entirely different matter. Time to call Allstate Animal Control, since they get rid of birds, too. Science lessons are great, but not when they’re destroying my home.
My landlord says we can’t have any pets, but he seems to be completely okay with a vole in the house, as long as it’s not a pet. He swears there isn’t a mouse problem or a rat problem, but I started to doubt that when I saw some little brown, black and gray pellets in several different places throughout the house. They weren’t in the kitchen, thank heavens. But, I found some little droppings scattered under the bathroom sink, in the garage, and by one of the basement windows. When I contacted my landlord, he said he’d already taken care of the mouse problem before I moved in. That was news to me. I think I would have liked to have known if there had been a problem with rodents living in the house I intended to occupy for the next couple of years.
My personality, though, is such that I can’t just not do something about a problem. I have to take it on until it’s solved. It’s the kind of personality trait that drove my mother crazy and made her proud at the same time. So, I headed to the hardware store, picked up a few mouse traps, and set them around the house near the areas that had the droppings.
I was really surprised by what I caught, though. It was definitely not a rat. Nowhere near big enough. It didn’t really look like a mouse, either. I mean, it was small, brown and furry. But, its nose was a lot longer and the face was, just different than a mouse. So, I took a picture and threw it out, and then re-set the trap. Then, I looked it up online. Turns out, I have a vole in the house. I’ve never seen a vole up close, until today. I’ve seen the damage a vole does in a yard, though. But, I was pretty sure they stayed out in the yard. Chewing through tulip bulbs, the roots of bushes, and making yucky brown trails all over the yard, evidence they’ve successfully killed the grass over their tunnels.
And, now it turns out I actually have a vole in the house. Well, at least I did. But, my research shows that, where there’s one vole, there’s many. I bet the voles just use the little mouse holes left by the mouse population my landlord swears he killed. While I don’t have any plants or things for them to eat inside, it is warm and dry, and I’m sure looks like a perfect place for a vole to burrow. I don’t care. A rodent is a rodent. Whether it’s a mouse, rat or vole, it needs to be out of my house. Now, if I can only convince my landlord to call Allstate Animal Control to take care of the voles in my house . . . maybe I should fish the vole out of the trash and show it to him. Sometimes, a visual aid is the best argument.
It took forever for us to figure out we had a skunk in the house. It shouldn’t have taken us that long, but you have to understand we live in a duplex, and we’ve had problems with our neighbors for years. Now, we’re not the ritziest people. We work hard, though. I work two jobs and my boyfriend does construction work, so he can either be working a 16 hour day for three days in a row, or have no work for a week. On the days he’s not working, he’ll pick up odd jobs and fix up houses and stuff. We made some bad choices a couple of years back, so we have some real serious debts to pay off, and we want to put money down on a new house. That’s why we work so much, so we can pay off the debt, buy a house, get married and start a family, maybe.
But the people that live next door are a nightmare. They throw all-night parties, people coming and going until 3 or 4 in the morning. Makes it kind of hard when I get home at ten at night and have to be up again at six. They throw their trash out on the front lawn. Never even makes it to the garbage can. It’s just junk and stuff rotting or rusting. Makes it embarrassing when we have our friends over, because they have to walk next to that. I think they have to have mice or something nesting in that garbage, though, which is probably how we ended up with a skunk in the house.
Sure, we’ve complained. The guy who owns the duplex doesn’t really care, though. He’s got tenants that pay regular rent, so that’s that. Yeah, he’s talked to them a couple of times, but it doesn’t look like anyone’s going anywhere. We can’t move out fast enough, if you ask me.
We weren’t all that surprised when we started smelling a new awful smell. Took us a while to figure out what it was, though. We just assumed it was more garbage, or something had died or something. Then, one morning, I was headed out to work around six, when I saw the black and white cat-sized animal come out of a hole in the wall, right behind the gas meter. That’s when I realized we have a skunk in the house. The meters are kind of in between the two duplexes, so it’s hard to tell whether it’s on our side or not. I don’t care. We can all smell it, and it can probably get into either side.
I called my husband from work, since he didn’t have a job that day, and told him all about it. He called the landlord, who promised to get Allstate Animal Control out there to get rid of the skunk in the house. I hope so. If only we could ask them to get rid of the neighbors at the same time.
As the children have gotten older, I’m able to let them play outside on their own more and more, but they still have this awful habit of leaving the door open, and now we’re getting pigeons in the house. At first, I didn’t realize we’d have a pigeon problem. I thought the children’s frustrating habit of leaving the door wide open would simply lead to higher heating and air conditioning bills, or allow the next door neighbor’s dog to run inside our home every now and then. I didn’t know it could lead to pigeons in the house, and I’m more disgusted by those devil birds than I am by our neighbor’s unwashed yappy little creature. At least with a dog, I can shoo it out of my house, clean up after it, and know that it’s gone. I have no idea how many pigeons have fluttered their way into my home, so I don’t know if one got left behind, hiding in another room, dropping little bird mites onto my sofa or dining room table, ready to swoop down on one of us when we walk unsuspectingly into that room. Just gross.
But, they do. My guess is, they’re nesting or roosting in the house just down the street. It’s been abandoned for just over a year now. The previous owners struggled with their mortgage payments, especially after the husband got sick and the medical bills racked up. They had to move out of state to live nearer to a special clinic that he needed, so they rented it out for a while. Unfortunately, the people who rented it didn’t take care of the place, and it got run down pretty quick. Finally, the bank had to foreclose on the place, the tenants moved, and it’s sat there empty ever since. What a waste. And, what an attractive place for nuisance animals like pigeons to call their home.
I’m not naïve. I fully expect those flying rats to breed and move into the rest of the neighborhood. Or, attempt to move in. My husband and I have been pretty vigilant about checking out our attic to make sure nothing’s living up there, and we spot check the outside of our house, looking for holes or cracks. But, I’ve heard a lot of animals can get into the house through the tiniest of openings. Of course, my kids like to put out the welcome mat for them, when they disregard my rules and leave the door wide open.
We get pigeons in the house who just fly or walk right through the open back door. I will find them around the dog’s food bowl, or hanging around the kitchen garbage can. I grab the broom and chase those suckers straight back out the door, but sometimes I’ll miss one. I might have to call the bank that foreclosed on that empty house, to see if they’ll get Allstate Animal Control to get rid of the pigeons in the house. And, my family will just have to be more vigilant to keep them out of our house, too.
I work for an organization that provides and maintains homes for people who are working hard to transition to life outside a mental health facility, and we have rabbits in the yard of one of our homes. This home is located just off a busy street in a fairly rural neighborhood, and houses six female guests at a time. Normally, we have a difficult time finding good properties in areas where the city doesn’t fight us on zoning issues. For the sake of our clients, we try to be as discreet as possible, but sometimes when neighbors find out who we are and who intends on moving in, we face all kinds of opposition.
But, this property was different. We were contacted by the previous owner, who specifically wanted to sell to us. He said it had been his family’s home for twenty-five years, and he’d made all kinds of improvements to it and updated the bathrooms and kitchen. His son had struggled with a mental health problem for years, but through perseverance and the efforts of organizations like ours, he was living a happy and healthy life with a family and a steady job. When we did our preliminary investigations, we found the property was perfect. It had enough rooms to transfer into bedrooms and one large day room. Its kitchen was large enough for the needs of our clients. And, it was on a large property that would allow house guests to meet outside, or stroll around on the premises. In addition, the neighbors were well-aware of who we are and what we do, and they welcomed us with open arms. They’d known the previous owner’s son, too, and loved him.
It’s been one of our most successful locations, until one of the guests tripped over a trench dug on the side of the house and twisted her ankle. I inspected the property myself, and spoke with the guests. Several guests admitted to having seen rabbits in the yard, poking their heads out of the trench, nibbling on the grass. One of our employees at the home had even stumbled across a rabbit nest in the yard, a small depression in the grass, in which three tiny little rabbits huddled and waited for their mama to return.
As a property manager, I was frustrated that no one had brought this to our attention before now. I understand the guests loved their little friends, but those adorable animals beget a lot more adorable little animals, and they can chew, and dig, and destroy. Plus, rabbits in the yard might be attractive to other wild animals, like feral cats or raccoons.
So, much to the chagrin of our guests and employees, we need to get the rabbits out of the yard. Fortunately, we’ve worked with Allstate Animal Control before, and we know they do a great job.
I’m an intern with an oil and gas company, which means I expected a certain level of engineering glamour associated with this opportunity, not being stuck with managing porcupine destruction. But, here I am, stuck in a tiny, windowless office (more of a closet, really), working under the communications officer, and traveling occasionally out to remote outposts to assist in inspecting damages or weaknesses in our communications structure.
Now, don’t get me wrong. Even as a near-graduate, I’m well aware of how important communications is to the infrastructure of our business. People stationed in our remote locations rely on our communications systems to keep in touch with the office and family, coordinate operations, and get emergency services out there in case, God Forbid, something goes terribly wrong. We need to be able to evacuate or shut sites down if the worst happens, or get a helicopter out there to air-lift an injured employee to the nearest hospital, or just keep our employees happy because they’re able to keep in touch with their loved ones.
But, I was shocked when I found out this would be the focus of my internship, and I despaired that it wouldn’t help me get a better job once I actually graduated. By then, it was too late, and I was stuck. I was stuck with getting an earful from an angry employee who was mad that communications went down at his outpost just when his wife was having a baby. I was stuck researching ways to protect our radio communication sites more efficiently and with a lot less funding. I was stuck dealing with porcupine destruction.
Apparently, those quiet and shy, but ungodly looking animals wreak havoc in and around our communication stations, especially the stations in the more forested areas of the country. Before my internship, I thought they generally kept to themselves, eating the bark off trees in some far-off region of the country. Turns out, they’re rodents. That means they have teeth that grow all the time, so they have to gnaw on stuff just to keep their teeth down to the right size. So, not only are they munching on the treated lumber we used to construct the communication station, they’re chewing on wires and aluminum, too.
Add porcupine damage to the regular damage of weather, vandals, and other animals, and it’s no wonder the communications director requires an intern at his disposal. He needs someone just to field phone calls, research, and help him figure out ways to keep those stations up and running, for the safety of our employees and the success of the company. So, I figure, if I can work out a way to keep the porcupine destruction down to a minimum, it might earn me a nicer internship upstairs, with a cushy office and maybe even my own secretary. One can dream.
The last thing I wanted to do when we got home late from our camping trip was worry about skunk control. We had a great and well-deserved trip, and we were exhausted by the time we finally pulled up to our home. We had already decided we’d leave all the stuff in the truck and unpack in the morning, since it was late, we were tired, and we didn’t want to wake up neighbors by making noise as we unloaded. So, we pulled in the driveway, grabbed the food bag that would go directly into the fridge, and unlocked the front door.
I’ll admit, we were so tired we didn’t realize the house smelled funny until after we’d put the food in the fridge, fed the cat, checked our messages and headed upstairs. Halfway up the stairs, my husband stopped and sniffed. ”Do you smell that?” he asked me. I sniffed and smelled a faint musky odor. It was definitely animal in origin, and at first I assumed it was the cat. ”Maybe Snuffles got mad at us and used a closet for her toilet?” I suggested. ”No, it’s not the cat, I don’t think,” said my husband. ”It smells like, I don’t know, some wild animal or something.”
The thought of wild animal smell in our house was too much to let slide until we were more coherent in the morning, after a night’s rest. So, we spent the next forty minutes wandering around the house, inside and out, sniffing and looking and hoping we wouldn’t come face to face with an animal. Camping is fine. We expect to see wild animals, although we do everything we can to keep them away from the tent, of course, and at a distance. When we’re at home, we expect wild animals to remain outside. Far outside. I was making another round around the house with my flashlight in the dark, and rounded the south side just in time to hear a rustling in the bushes next to our foundation, and see a little black and white striped animal hustle back underneath the undergrowth. This was no animal we could just scare away. We would need skunk control.
I made it back inside the house where my husband was looking through the basement, and explained what I saw. He agreed we would need to get a professional to do the skunk control for us. We just weren’t equipped to handle it ourselves. More than likely, the skunk was attracted to our house because of the cat food bowl we’d filled outside. We didn’t want the cat to go hungry during our four-day camping trip, so we’d filled her bowl to overflowing. Cats are so easy. They’ll just eat their fill and come back for more when they’re hungry again. Of course, we didn’t think about how the cat food would attract other animals, especially skunks. So, the skunk probably smelled the food, helped itself, and dug a little burrow or den or whatever they sleep in right under the foundation of our home, over by the bushes that had halfway hidden the skunk earlier.
We got the number for Allstate Animal Control from the web, and vowed to call them first thing in the morning, even before unpacking the truck. Skunk control is just the last thing you want to attempt when you’re already tired, it’s late, and all you want is a long, hot shower and a soft bed.
I rely on my two cats to tell me anytime there’s the faintest chance of a mouse in the house. After the experience I had two winters ago, I still hate to put my hand into any container that has food in it, without inspecting it first. Two years ago, I was storing a fifty-pound bag of potatoes in the garage. We’d found a great deal on potatoes, but I had nowhere to store it in the house, so we kept it in the cold garage. I figured that was the best place for something like that anyway. Didn’t they used to store potatoes in cold cellars in the old days?
I was going to make mashed potatoes for dinner that night, so I padded out into the garage, reached my hand into the large bag and groped around, and was shocked beyond belief when my hand closed on a stiff, furry object instead of the smooth surface of a potato. Turns out it was a mouse that had crawled into the bag and died.
Now, we own two cats, and guess where they sleep at night? In our garage. I don’t want another mouse in the house, garage, or anywhere else in my home, for that matter. We haven’t had an incident ever since we got the cats.
But now, I have the worst suspicion that those mouse-free days may be over. For the last week, every time I let the cats into the garage for the night, they immediately crouch down and peer under our tool cabinet. Occasionally, they’ll swipe a paw around down there. I’m convinced that we may have a mouse in the house, or maybe even a mouse nest. As the days have passed this week, I was certain that our two cats would eventually take care of the problem. After all, whenever I let them outside, they always return with a “present” for me. Of course, I am probably less enthusiastic about the dead mice gifts than my cats are, but that’s beside the point. I know they’re good mousers. So, why do we have a mouse in the house?
Surely these cats will take care of the problem without any further action on my part. I can’t stand the idea of “padding” out into the garage in my bare feet, just to walk over mouse droppings, or have a startled creature scamper across my toes. Worst, my hand still spasms involuntarily whenever I think about what I pulled out of that potato bag.
But, as the days have gone on, the cats still stalk the tool cabinet, but they have nothing to present to me. Why would a mouse stay in a house with two cats, unless they have an alternate and safe way to get in and out?
So, instead of relying on pets to take care of the mouse problem for me, I’m calling Allstate Animal Control. I’d be a lot happier knowing they’ve gotten rid of all the mice for me, and my cats can go back to just sleeping in the garage.
Charlotte knew to expect new adventures when she married her husband, and moved out of the city, across a couple of states, and into the old farm house he had talked about for months, but a snake in the house wasn’t foremost in her expectations. The decision to change her lifestyle hadn’t been as hard as she might have thought. She was deeply in love with Michael, and he loved her just as deeply, and she viewed his more rural lifestyle as an exciting adventure. She’d always loved getting out of the city, preferring hiking and camping trips to sitting on a chair in a beach resort somewhere. So, this wasn’t a scary change for her.
Until the morning she saw the snake in the house, that is.
Although they lived on farm land, they weren’t farmers. Michael had a law degree and had joined a small, local firm. Charlotte had already decided to spend her days fixing up the house, starting a smallish garden from which she could sell a few vegetables at the farmers market, and working on a book that had been rattling around inside her head for a few years. She didn’t miss her high-stress job in a big-city office one teeny, tiny bit.
Her husband had left for the office early that morning, and Charlotte padded into the kitchen to get a small breakfast before repainting the dining room. The paint and supplies were already sitting in the empty room, waiting for her. But, as she walked into the kitchen, she squinted at the odd shape sitting on the stove. From her point of view, it looked as if her husband had left a scarf or something lying across a couple of the burners. That was odd, since it was nice weather outside. Then, the scarf moved.
Charlotte moved closer, still unsure as to what that was moving ever so slowly over the top of the range. Finally, she realized, she had a snake in the house. And, this sucker was big. She couldn’t tell how long it was, exactly, but it was longer than her arm.
Charlotte could keep her cool under pressure, so she just left the room and called her husband, who assured her he didn’t think there were any poisonous snakes in the area, but she’d better call the police, just to make sure. After nearly two hours, a lone policewoman knocked on the door, and said she understood there was a possible animal problem in the home. She paled when Charlotte said they had a snake in the house, and outright walked out of the room once she laid eyes on the thing.
After getting no help from the police, Charlotte got the number for Allstate Animal Control. The animal control expert got the snake out of the house and Charlotte got back to her day. But, she admits that, to this day, the stove is the first thing she inspects whenever she walks into the kitchen.
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