To Catch a Squirrel

Now, I love my dad dearly. I really do. But I think he's gone a bit nutty recently.

A squirrel has taken up housing in the eaves of our roof, scrabbling about a bit. Now, I know that they can be rabble-rouseres, especially if they get to chewing on cable, eating the inner eaves of the house, performing satanic rituals, etc. But the recent lengths that Dad's gone to- it feels like our little Rocky's smarter than the average squirrel.

The first trap belonged to Grandpa. Now, I remember that trap from way back when. It was much like Grandpa's mole traps- something used to capture critters that were disturbing him, his garden, and his plants... only it didn't harm them. But he would tend to them very carefully. Bait it with nuts, and then leave it be. I'd see grandpa carry it past me wordlessly. Ah, the memories. But I digress.

Dad dragged it out when I suggested that he just get a squirrel-thrower instead. (Squirrel-throwers are so much more fun.) Now, apparently, the old rusty girl just ain't what she used to be... the first time, dad had it on the ledge of the back porch. Not smart. Darn squirrel rocked it from side to side, probably trying to trip the lever again and again in hopes that it would get loose. Instead, it merely managed to knock the cage to the ground... Then it somehow got out. This happened twice before Dad figured out that he'd been able to somehow push the door up because it didn't latch the entire way.

I could almost see the cloud forming over Dad's head. There's a slight sort of reverence in his voice, but not much. Like talking about that parrot who rides a bike at Grant's Farm.

The new trap caught him the first time around. I got the opportunity to see him bounding about again before Dad took him across the river that runs near our house.

Then Dad went after the other squirrel that had been eating out of the birdfeeder. Got him pretty quickly, too. Took him out as far as Six Flags. A fifteen minute drive is a lot faster than the running time of the squirrel. Maybe he was dropped off at Jellystone. I can't be sure.

We had a relatively quiet couple of days before our beloved Rocky came back to nest. Telltale scrabbling of what might have been a poker game above the kitchen table quickly alerted everyone to our favorite little houseguest. That said, Dad decided to re-introduce him to the trap.

Apparently he doesn't fall for the same con twice. Dad even set up a camera to find out how the squirrel was getting away. A camera! Granted, it only hooks up to a monitor (no video footage), but still! Even the squirrel went direcly up to it and sniffed the lens cautiously. So far, it has managed to steal nuts without tripping the trap, and then maneuver itself halfway out so that it can speedily trip the trap with the last nut, scampering away before the door slams shut on his tail.

Currently the cage is rearranged, and Rocky's a bit apprehensive. It's poked its head inside, circled it several times, sat on top of it, stuck its arm through the side, and hasn't decided yet if it wants to chance the new setup or not.

When Dad gets a black trenchcoat and starts muttering "Must capture moose and squirrel", then I probably ought to see about getting him a good psychiatrist.