Tag Archives: squirrel babies

Get Rid of Squirrels

get rid of squirrels 
           Times are tough enough without me having to get rid of squirrels from our attic.  My company made me cut back on my hours so that I’m home more and make less, but hey, at least I still have a job, you know?  So, I’m home, and I’m working on the computer looking for some extra work to fill in the gaps, when I hear this noise overhead, coming from the attic. 

            I try to ignore it for a while and make a couple of phone calls.  But, after a while, the rustling, the running, the pitter-pat just drives me crazy.  I stand on my chair and pound on the wall.  It’s quiet for maybe ten seconds, but then starts up again.  I bring in my dog who barks at the ceiling, but the squirrels don’t even care.

            Finally, I crawl on up there, and wouldn’t you know it?  There’s squirrel mess everywhere.  They’ve even gnawed up some of the wood up there, and left a scattering of their droppings.  It could be worse, I guess, it could be something really filthy like mice or something, but squirrels are bad enough. 

            I go outside to see where the squirrels are getting in, and finally find a couple of holes right up under the eaves.  That’s gotta be it.  So, I make a trip to the hardware store, figuring I’ll just plug up the holes, clean up the mess, and that’ll be that.  Good thing I got to talking to the guy there.  He told me I could plug up the holes, but if the squirrels had babies in there, I’d just get a worse problem.  If I make it so mama squirrel can’t get back in to her babies after a long day of foraging for food, she’d do anything to get in there.  She’ll tear through the stucco and wood and make an even worse mess for me to repair. 

            So now what?  I’ve got to wait for the babies to grow up and leave the nest?  How long would that take, and why should I have to deal with listening to the annoying rustling sounds above my head, knowing some wild creature and her babies are up there?  Plus, we store stuff up there, and I don’t want them rummaging around in my stuff.  No, it’s time to get rid of squirrels and now!

            I consider myself a do-it-yourself kind of guy, but this was all kind of new to me.  What do I do?  Poison?  Set a trap?  What’s legal and what’s not?  I have no idea.  It’s not like they teach you this kind of thing in high school shop class.  It’s just not worth the hassle, I think.  It’s definitely time to call a professional.  Once they get rid of the squirrels, I can plug up those holes and that’ll be that.  Maybe I can learn how to do it right, and find a job with the pest control service?  Who knows, these squirrels might be a blessing in disguise.

Squirrels in the roof

squirrels in the roof
I walk by the front of my home. It’s clear, sunny, warm even, for the middle of winter. I carry groceries and my purse and am looking forward to leaving the cold air outside.

When I pass under the overhang of my covered porch, a curious noise chirps from above. At first I thought it could be a bird, a pack of birds maybe, but it was winter; don’t birds fly away in winter? I move closer to the noise.    The roof covering my porch has more than a few holes in it. I’ve tried to tell my husband to fix them, cover them, but he never does. Someday it will fall apart. Fall down. Hit someone over the head—hopefully my husband. Until then I have to put up with the holes, the various state of disrepair, and wait for it to collapse.   

It’s not a pack of birds chirping. It’s not even one bird chirping. I think it’s squirrel in the roof. And it sounds upset. I place my groceries down and try to get a better look. It is a squirrel. It found a nice place to live, on the side of my roof, away from the elements.

I wonder how long it’s been there? Months? Years? Does it have babies? A squirrel mate? Either way it’s chewed a hole and set up shop above my porch.    For some reason its become quiet outside. Very quiet. Usually cars drive by or someone closes a door, but right now, beneath a cloudless blue sky, the crisp chirp and rattle of a squirrel echoes through my neighborhood.

I move closer to the gnawed hole. The squirrel must have seen me move close because it poked its head out of the opening. It’s really upset now. I can see its teeth and small black eyes and I wouldn’t be surprised if it jumped out and attacked me. That’s what I would do if I was the squirrel. I would yell and scream and threaten anyone that comes near me. I would poke my head out of my home, show my teeth, and grin. If that didn’t scare off an intruder, I would jump down, fly out, and attack an intruder.

Maybe the squirrel has babies inside of the hole. Maybe the squirrel has other homes that have been taken, uprooted, destroyed by a predator, an intruder. For that reason I would protect what’s mine, and chirp until my voice was gone.    But I’m not the squirrel. I’m the intruder. I have a home. I have groceries. Maybe I’ll leave the squirrel alone, and let the roof fall down, and not tell my husband about the squirrels in the roof.