Thug Squirrels

Friends, you probably don't remember, but I have squirrels that moved into my garage over the winter.  I wasn't really convinced they were there at first, just heard the scrabbling sounds without ever seeing them.

Then my father spotted one, and his war against the squirrels began.  I didn't see what the problem was -- it was so cold last winter and I didn't want the little guys to freeze to death. I understood more when I was shown where they were chewing on my garage roof.

As far back as January he began his opening salvo in the war against the squirrels. Preliminary move?  Moving the bird feeder.  Sadly, that did not deter them.

Earlier this Spring, he went around and closed all points of entry the squirrels had made for themselves.  That did nothing, as they simply popped the places back open again.

I should also mention that I seem to have thug squirrels in my neighborhood.  They are not the cute little guys you see serenely hopping across a park, carrying a little acorn.  No.

You know those wire-cage suet feeder things?  I went through 3 of those before I got smart and relocated it.

1) They are smart enough to pop it open.
2) I watched them snap the chain and drag one onto the garage roof!
3) The third time I thought I was smart, and took someone advice and closed it tight using twist ties on the latches.  I found that thing bent to hell, thrown into the middle of the yard, twist ties still in place and suet gone.

These squirrels are hardcore.  I'm pretty sure they would have no qualms in trying to take a person out.

My father seems undeterred by the menacing abilities demonstrated by my garage squirrels.  This evening he took his game to the next level.

Bonus!  I'll also be protected if a very lost armadillo should wander into my yard.

Supposedly this stuff won't actually harm the little guys, just smell really bad so they won't want to hang out here any more.

Let's take a closer look at those ingredients.

WTF?

--Dried blood?  Dried blood of what?  Where did this blood come from?  Am I now going to attract vampires instead of squirrels -- cause that seems like a bad trade.

--Putrescent whole egg solids.  Rotten eggs.  Lovely

--Garlic oil.  Well, guess that will balance out the blood as far as vampires are concerned.

My Dad, bringing the war to the squirrels.  Hitting 'em where it hurts!

I can attest to the bad smell.  Even though it was only applied inside the garage, where the squirrels have been making their nests, I'm pretty sure my entire yard is now protected.  That stuff stinks to high heaven!  I honestly don't know how my Dad was able to stay in there long enough to spray it all. I was outside, and I'm pretty sure I watched 2 bumblebees flee the yard when the smell wafted in our general direction.

Fancy garage decor from a previous owner.  No wonder the squirrels like it here so much!

As mentioned, I was outside for the majority of the application process.  In return for the protection from the thug squirrels and lost armadillos, I offered freshly picked raspberries from my garden.  I think it's a fair trade.  We operate on the barter system.

Tasty and delicious!

After the trade deal was complete, my Dad decided that we should leave the doors closed and locked, but leave the squirrel access points open so they can get in there and see how nasty it is and realize they don't want to live there any more.  

While contemplating that decision, I noticed something hanging out of one of the access points.  It looked like....rope?  So I asked my Dad if he had shoved it in there to try and deter the squirrels at some point.  Nope.  It was a purloined treasure the squirrels had dragged back to use in their nest.

It's a basketball net.  A perfectly round, somewhat worn, basketball net.

This just proves my point that my squirrels are some bad-ass motherf$%kers!  None of my neighbors have basketball hoops in their yards.  These squirrels had to literally drag this thing for at least half a mile from a school -- the closest possible point from which they could have swiped a basketball net.  It weighs more than a squirrel!  Maybe it was a group effort.  Maybe my squirrels have organized into a squirrel mafia, or a gang. 

Honestly, I don't know if this stuff will work or not.  I don't want my garage to be destroyed, obviously, but I'm picturing various outcomes from this action.

Scenario 1: It works.  The squirrels leave, and my garage is safe.  It only lasts for 2 months, so hopefully it makes a big enough impression in their little squirrel brains that they never want to check back and see if the smell is gone.  Also, armadillos won't want to chill here if they are lost.

Scenario 2:  It doesn't work.  The thug squirrels are too tough for any of this nonsense.  They stay right where they are, forcing my father to even more drastic measures.  What that might be I don't know, but I'm sure a next step will come.

Scenario 3: Whether it works or not, the thug squirrels are pissed and want revenge.  Maybe they destroy my bird feeder.  Maybe they bring in their larger cohorts and destroy my garden.  Perhaps they will throw bricks through my windows.  I put nothing past the thug squirrels at this point.  *I realize that this will probably never happen outside of my imagination.*

The salvo has been fired.  Now it becomes a waiting game.

The Joys of Homeownership

I woke up this morning, and it was cold in the house -- much colder than it should  be.  I knew it had been cold outside (about -2 I learned later), but it still shouldn't have felt that chilly in the house.  I was not amused, to say the least.

There are 3 main things I should never be asked to deal with in the morning before I have my coffee:

1) Pondering any issue that is going to require deep, weighty thought
2) Emotional issues
3) Critical problem solving

I'm not saying that I can't, haven't, or outright refuse to handle those matters before having coffee -- I'm just saying that I am not going to be happy about it  most likely going to be cranky, or less pleasant than usual.  Waking up to the possibility that my furnace was not working pretty much tapped into all of those areas.

I should probably give you a little background on my furnace.

I love you furnace!  You're not old, you are aging like a fine wine.

 It normally does a superb job of keeping the house nice and toasty in the winter.  It is an older model, and I'm always afraid that it is going to give up on me or break and cost a small fortune to repair.  When I say "older model", I mean it is older than I am.  I'm not sure they even make them any more.  To put it another way, the top two Google search results are from newspaper archives:

1963.  I think that qualifies as not being the latest technology.

The first winter that I owned my house the heat stopped working.  I called a local company to come fix it, clean it, etc.  They had to make one little repair, and taught me how to re-light the pilot.  I had never had natural gas heat before and had no idea what to do.  The technician was awesome, and he told me to just keep this furnace and run it until the day it is no longer able to be fixed.  He said the older models are great because there are fewer parts that can break.  I took his advice to heart.

That does not make me worry any less when, on occasions like this morning, the heat stops functioning.  I'm always worried that I will have to re-light the pilot and manage to blow up myself and the house in the process.  This is a particularly daunting task to face first thing without coffee.

The first thing I decided to do, hoping to avoid the drama with the pilot lighting, was to check the thermostat.  It was completely blank.  I have never seen it do that before.  The thermostat has its quirks -- about a year ago it randomly decided to switch from registering the temperature in Fahrenheit and decided to display it in Celsius instead.  I have no idea how to switch it back.  I have learned to just go with it.  

A blank display was an entirely new quirk.  My pre-coffee brain decided that the best way to investigate this problem was to give the thermostat a good tap with my hand and see if anything happened.  I'm going to call this the Cave Woman Method of problem solving.  Me Hit!  Me Fix! Coffee Now!

Turns out the Cave Woman Method actually works!  The display came up flashing "lo bat" and registering that the house was a balmy 12 degrees Celsius.  For those of you unfamiliar with metric conversions, that's about 53 degrees Fahrenheit.  (I had to Google that on my phone this morning.  Math is not my strong suit at the best and most coffee-filled of moments.)

Thank heavens the thermostat does not take some spectacularly weird type of battery!  2 AAs would solve my problem.  I'm not a "prepper" by any means, but I do keep a supply of AA batteries in the house.  Okay, so I have those particular batteries because I need them for very important things like the television remotes, and the mouse for the laptop.  But hey -- looks like they come in handy for the thermostat too, so bonus points to me for being accidentally prepared for this little emergency!

I might have started praying to any and all deities that would listen that new batteries were going to fix my problem.  I cannot stress enough how much I did not want to have to go try to restart the furnace.  On top of the whole "I-Might-Blow-Myself-Up" worry, it also would require a trip to the cellar.  The cellar is also known as The Realm of the Spiders.  I do not go down there unless it is an absolute necessity, and it requires Spider Protective Clothing (a hoodie).  I f*^king hate spiders.  They creep me the hell out.  I want as little contact with them as possible, and I absolutely do not want to them or their webs touching me.  

I put the new batteries in, turned up the heat, and literally held my breath while listening to see it the furnace was going to kick on.  It took a few very stress-inducing moments, but then the rumble kicked in and a swoosh of warm air followed shortly thereafter.

VICTORY!!!!  

I'm happy to report that this evening my house is nice and toasty at its normal temperature.

Now, the thermostat had been normal when I turned it down before going to bed last night.  My best guess is that the batteries started to register as "low" at some point shortly after I went to bed.  Once they were too low the thermostat stopped running, therefore never triggering the furnace to kick on again.  I could be wrong -- all I know is that new batteries seem to have solved the problem.

Maybe this will be of use to fellow homeowners out there.  I'd like to think someone could benefit from my pre-coffee stress.  

1) Don't jump to the conclusion that the furnace is broken. 

2) Check the thermostat.  

3) Use the Cave Woman Method of problem solving.  

4) Avoid the Realm of the Spiders if at all possible

5) Always have extra batteries 

** Friends:  did you enjoy reading about my small victory in this great adventure that is being a homeowner?  Are you just dying to know what other fantastic obstacles I have overcome with such highly technical feats of reasoning?  Please allow me to refer you to the time I thought my mouthwash was eating my sink, and my midnight explorations in the field of toilet plumbing.