Welcome
/Why a blog? A couple of reasons.
One, I'm a publicity hound. Luuuv the attention.
Two, seems like a good way to scare family members into docile submission. What? You don't like my cooking? Hey, you know what I just remembered? That time you cheated on your college entrance exams. Well anyway, we'll order in pizza, but hang on a minute. There's something I want to post on my blog...
And third, and this, really, is the most important reason for starting this blog, is that there is some huge, monstrous, mutant creature living underneath my stairs making growling noises, my husband is out of town, the cats are hiding, and this blog may very well end up being a testament of my last moments on earth.
The demon-creature showed up several months ago. My husband and I heard scrabbling under the stairs and assumed it was a mouse. Paid a bunch of money for a pest service to come out, the noises stopped for the 2 hours the guy was here, then picked up again as soon as he left. My guess was the mouse had installed some sort of babysitter cam to tell when the coast was clear.
The scrabblings continuted but the thing was inside our walls and we couldn't get to it. We live in an older home with plaster walls, so installing a nail to hang a frame is enough to send piles of plaster tumbling down. I didn't dig on the pest guy's idea of "drilling a hole in your wall and dropping posion down inside."
Now of course I wish I'd listened. Yesterday there was GROWLING and YIPPING and ANGRY CHIRRPING coming from the under the stairs. Once my jumping up and down on top of the stairs and yelling "Go away, go away, go away!" didn't solve the problem, I was out of ideas.
I called a new pest guy who calmly informed me in a polite southern drawl that I mayhap had a rabid squirrel in there.
AIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!
Sobbing, afriad for my cats lives (do rabid squirrels attack? I betcha they do. And if it's a flying rabid squirrel, we're screwed for sure), I called Animal Control. They told me it could be a racoon which while still terrifying, at least doesn't conjure images of a dripping white foam Cujo-squirrel.
Animal Control guy set out racoon traps, baited them with cat food, and left me here to suffer my fate. I woke up at 5:30 this morning to the sound of gnawing behind the wall of my bedroom closet. Nothing like a little wood gnawing to rush you out of bed. And the cats are no help. They won't even scootch over to make room under the bed to let me hide with them.
Until tomorrow (I hope).
One, I'm a publicity hound. Luuuv the attention.
Two, seems like a good way to scare family members into docile submission. What? You don't like my cooking? Hey, you know what I just remembered? That time you cheated on your college entrance exams. Well anyway, we'll order in pizza, but hang on a minute. There's something I want to post on my blog...
And third, and this, really, is the most important reason for starting this blog, is that there is some huge, monstrous, mutant creature living underneath my stairs making growling noises, my husband is out of town, the cats are hiding, and this blog may very well end up being a testament of my last moments on earth.
The demon-creature showed up several months ago. My husband and I heard scrabbling under the stairs and assumed it was a mouse. Paid a bunch of money for a pest service to come out, the noises stopped for the 2 hours the guy was here, then picked up again as soon as he left. My guess was the mouse had installed some sort of babysitter cam to tell when the coast was clear.
The scrabblings continuted but the thing was inside our walls and we couldn't get to it. We live in an older home with plaster walls, so installing a nail to hang a frame is enough to send piles of plaster tumbling down. I didn't dig on the pest guy's idea of "drilling a hole in your wall and dropping posion down inside."
Now of course I wish I'd listened. Yesterday there was GROWLING and YIPPING and ANGRY CHIRRPING coming from the under the stairs. Once my jumping up and down on top of the stairs and yelling "Go away, go away, go away!" didn't solve the problem, I was out of ideas.
I called a new pest guy who calmly informed me in a polite southern drawl that I mayhap had a rabid squirrel in there.
AIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!
Sobbing, afriad for my cats lives (do rabid squirrels attack? I betcha they do. And if it's a flying rabid squirrel, we're screwed for sure), I called Animal Control. They told me it could be a racoon which while still terrifying, at least doesn't conjure images of a dripping white foam Cujo-squirrel.
Animal Control guy set out racoon traps, baited them with cat food, and left me here to suffer my fate. I woke up at 5:30 this morning to the sound of gnawing behind the wall of my bedroom closet. Nothing like a little wood gnawing to rush you out of bed. And the cats are no help. They won't even scootch over to make room under the bed to let me hide with them.
Until tomorrow (I hope).
