So, there I am, mowing God’s Little Quarter Acre and enjoying the warm, summer day. I see stone fragments spread across a few square feet of lawn. Odd, how’d that happen? I notice at the base of my sunroom, there’s a semi-circular hole, maybe four inches in radius. The stone façade has been chipped away to make this breech in the wall, hence, the scattered stones.
My Orkin service rep comes for his quarterly visit and I explain the gaping hole to him. I must admit it becomes larger in my imagination every time I stew over it.
I have him expecting to see the Grand Canyon of New Jersey but he commiserates out of professional courtesy when he sees the opening. He schedules a wildlife guy, who comes out days later.
I walk the specialist out to the scene of the crime, and, as we approach, a cute, little creature from Hades in digging away, expanding his intrusion into my life. It’s a darned chipmunk (Tamias striatus ). The Orkin man nods and smiles. Yes, there’s your culprit, fill the hole.
Now, years ago, when battling mice invading my house, the Ace Hardware clerk recommended plugging the opening with steel wool. Mice can’t chew through the fibers, he advised. True enough, problem solved for the mice.
I plug the current breech with steel wool and dirt. I await the humiliating defeat of my foe, but the next day, the steel wool and dirt are removed, laying a few inches from the hole.
This is now war! I find my trusty bottle of dehydrated fox urine which I had bought years ago for a similar battle with wildlife. I stuff the gaping crevasse with more steel wool and dirt and sprinkle a liberal dose of fox number one, marking my territory. Next day: wool, dirt, and urine flakes scattered, leaving the hole unblemished.
After a few more failed attempts, that little bugger must have been laughing his tail off, I scrap that plan. I find a few six-by-ten inch stone slabs left over from prior patio work and block the opening to the hole. I check every day. No return yet, though I swear I hear a snicker if I lean close enough.
I’m declaring victory for now, but do have a plan C. The Chipmunk Outdoor Ultrasonic Repeller. Say hello to my little friend! It’s a device attached to a foot-tall plastic rod which you plunge into the ground near the enemy. The contraption is solar-powered and generates repulsive harmonics, guaranteed to send the creature away to less chaotic climes. Teenagers can surely attest to such an approach, as they have been repelling parents from their rooms for years with a similar method.
So, I’ll be ready if Alvin decides to challenge me again, although I admit this is the nuclear option. He, she, or it must be warned: never tunnel into a man’s castle.
My Orkin service rep comes for his quarterly visit and I explain the gaping hole to him. I must admit it becomes larger in my imagination every time I stew over it.
I have him expecting to see the Grand Canyon of New Jersey but he commiserates out of professional courtesy when he sees the opening. He schedules a wildlife guy, who comes out days later.
I walk the specialist out to the scene of the crime, and, as we approach, a cute, little creature from Hades in digging away, expanding his intrusion into my life. It’s a darned chipmunk (Tamias striatus ). The Orkin man nods and smiles. Yes, there’s your culprit, fill the hole.
Now, years ago, when battling mice invading my house, the Ace Hardware clerk recommended plugging the opening with steel wool. Mice can’t chew through the fibers, he advised. True enough, problem solved for the mice.
I plug the current breech with steel wool and dirt. I await the humiliating defeat of my foe, but the next day, the steel wool and dirt are removed, laying a few inches from the hole.
This is now war! I find my trusty bottle of dehydrated fox urine which I had bought years ago for a similar battle with wildlife. I stuff the gaping crevasse with more steel wool and dirt and sprinkle a liberal dose of fox number one, marking my territory. Next day: wool, dirt, and urine flakes scattered, leaving the hole unblemished.
After a few more failed attempts, that little bugger must have been laughing his tail off, I scrap that plan. I find a few six-by-ten inch stone slabs left over from prior patio work and block the opening to the hole. I check every day. No return yet, though I swear I hear a snicker if I lean close enough.
I’m declaring victory for now, but do have a plan C. The Chipmunk Outdoor Ultrasonic Repeller. Say hello to my little friend! It’s a device attached to a foot-tall plastic rod which you plunge into the ground near the enemy. The contraption is solar-powered and generates repulsive harmonics, guaranteed to send the creature away to less chaotic climes. Teenagers can surely attest to such an approach, as they have been repelling parents from their rooms for years with a similar method.
So, I’ll be ready if Alvin decides to challenge me again, although I admit this is the nuclear option. He, she, or it must be warned: never tunnel into a man’s castle.