Squirrel Invasion

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Sciurus carolinensis is a particularly odious rodent in that he appears harmless, what with his cheery, bounding gait and carefree tree clambering. Sitting upon a fence gnawing away on an acorn, his is the epitome of furry cuteness.

In our south St. Louis city neighborhood, gray squirrels are quite populous and completely useless. I'd find myself with a little love for these fluffy little varmints if instead of acorns they ate the gumballs that litter our sidewalks year 'round. An acorn will flatten under my heel should I step on it, but the fruit of the sweet gum tree is nature's ball bearing, and are worse than useless, actually creating a substantial hazard.

Squirrels have mostly stayed off my radar. While they are essentially useless, they do not trouble me like their fellow fauna, the pigeon. Pigeons have in the recent past earned my lethal attention by coating various surfaces with foul spoor. Tired of picking up my hose and grasping vinyl slick with filth, I took up arms against them, plugging their fat, feathered bodies with lead pellets until they found another home to use as a toilet.

Unfortunately, the local squirrel duchy has roused my anger. One afternoon, I took a call from my frantic wife. "A squirrel is in the house, can you call Critter Control?" she asks. "What?" I respond. I'm not sure what was so hard to understand, there aren't many common homonyms for squirrel. "A whirl is in the house" would have been nonsensical, but that's not what she said.

Gemey described the invasion, her telling littered with salty oaths, mostly "and then the little &^%$#...". A giant gray had bolted through the open door and perpetrated a whirlwind of frenzied destruction. Tin cans toppled, teapots broken. The damn thing gnawed on at least two window frames.

Critter Control wanted $125.00 to set out traps, a common fee among the various private pest assassins. The city will help you with a canine, but you are on your own with a squirrel. It did not occur to me to claim that it was an incredibly fast, amazingly small, fluffy, gray dog.

Though an emergency, a squirrel will not kill you, so I did not run home to cope with the invader. My brother in law came by, and declared the house rodent-free, the hairy little missile probably escaping while Gemey was frantically calling for help. Neighborhood raconteur Wally was not so sure, and cautioned us against sleeping after eating peanut butter. We did set out a trap in the house, but caught only a dust bunny.

Out of curiosity I set the trap outside with a cracker smeared with peanut butter as bait. The bait disappeared, and I tried again with peanuts. I caught a starling. I set the trap again. The next day, it was full of gray fury (did you know that squirrels growl?).

I asked Gemey if this was the squirrel, but she couldn't make a positive ID. I had to kick him loose, but I warned him to mind his step, we were watching him.

Tim McNabb is editor and publisher of http://www.fivehundredwords.com.

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