It's late evening and I'm trying not to listen to the desperate squeaks and chirps from the trapped squirrel above me. Two neighborhood cats are sniffing around the house. They too hear the squirrel.
We've been plagued by these pest the past few weeks. They've decided our attic is better habitat to raise their young than say, the trees or woods behind our house. Now there's a family just above Lola's bedroom. I've heard them mid afternoon while putting her laundry away or early morning, if she's had a dream and can't fall back to sleep. I'll lie with her and we listen to them. Their tooing and froing. They've developed a taste for my art books and stacks of old photos. Mama and her babies make such a racket as if they're installing a hot tub on the roof! The other morning I actually thought someone was in my attic moving boxes around. I grabbed a chunk of copper pipe and a tennis racket. What would I do if someone were up there? I hadn't figured it out that far....
I called the squirrel guy again. Honest to God, this man eats, breathes, and sleeps rodent removal. At $485 a pop, he should! He's been bitten many times, fallen off ladders, fallen into lakes, ponds, people's driveways. He deals with the above mentioned as well as raccoon, woodchucks, skunks, all the woodland creature that look so fat and cuddly in children's books sitting together around a campfire sharing Smores, telling ghost stories.
Today he climbed to the third story and set traps outside the corner of the roof. He stuck his hand in a small hole the mama had made. "Yup, they're in there!" He quickly drew back his hand before mama could have a mid morning munch of human. She had shredded some books and photos for her nest. I told Tom I saw the mama push two of the babies out the corner of the roof and watched them plop to the ground below. Tom said this is not typical behavior. His theory: another mama squirrel may have her eye on this cozy corner.
So I'm trying not to listen to the sorrowful, panicked squeaks. I've learned quite a bit about squirrel behavior from Tom. When we first hired him for "removal" last fall, he said there's no such thing as squirrel relocation. If let loose in a nearby field they always find their way back to their nest. Or in our case, back to our attic. I pictured a bunch of little squirrels huddling together behind some speak easy hoping not to be found out, turned in, by say a rat. There would be grainy black and white photos of them surfacing with black bars over their eyes to protect their identity.
Latest count, we've caught two youth and I think it's the mama squirrel who will soon join them. I made a call to Tom's cell and hoping he'll make quick work of it.