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It seems that little red bitch has given up the Barn Mahal and moved in even closer to yours truly.
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Lately she’s spending all her time in, on and around our back deck grill…. and I fear another nest has been built.
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This does not bode well for future cookouts.
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Although…
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I’ve heard people do eat roast squirrel….
😈
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I was not pleased.
Not at all pleased to find the marigolds everyone told me to plant to because animals hate them flowers I’d so lovingly tended were being beheaded.
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My first thought was woodchucks because those little devils have decimated my gardens in the past. So I liberally sprayed everything with coyote urine. ( Helpful hint – don’t do this on a windy afternoon like yours truly. People will shun you for days.)
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The next morning?
Another beheading.
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The day after that? Two.
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Third day? Three decapitations and multiple plants nibbled down to nubs.
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I was livid and rethinking my woodchucks are so cute! policy. Until….
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I watched a mouse come out from under the baby barn and try to drag a marigold blossom in. Mice? Since when do mice eat marigolds? Do I have a mutant strain of blossom munching rodents nesting in our lawn mowers? Turns out I do, and though I never ever resort to poison?
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When I found multiple piles of rodent poo, I did. No mutant mouse is going to nest in the husband’s new $5,000 zero turn tractor. Uh uh. Not happening.
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More photos from January. This was actually our last sighting of the rodent who must not be named.
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I’d like to think she’s gone to that large oak tree in the sky..
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But with my luck she’s just recruiting interspecies mercenaries and planning her next attack.
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Something tells me we haven’t seen the last of her…
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In the continuing saga that is my kitchen calendar ( Bless you my loyal readers, the content here at River’s World is sometimes less than thought provoking ) we have now arrived at April.
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The rodent featured this month seems to be knee deep in a pagan celebration of spring. But seeing that we live in Maine, where May can bring snow …. our resident red bitch from Hell is probably not celebrating in kind.
No, more than likely she’s gathering up dead grasses and leaves in anticipation of building a nest for her future demon offspring in our one of our eaves.
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The battle continues.
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The February red squirrel from my calendar.
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This photo has shaken me to my core…. because if our resident rodent discovers power tools?
We’re doomed.
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I forgot to mention this on the broken water line fiasco post, but my run of bad luck continues.
Yes, the fun just keeps on coming.
Torn meniscus in my right knee?
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No water or shower for three days?
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Rodents in open rebellion and probably surrounding the house as we speak?
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So it shouldn’t come as any surprise that just after the well was covered back up it started to rain…
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And our roof sprung a leak.
But wait, another sign someone has put an evil curse on yours truly?
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Birds are literally falling out of the sky in front of me.
Dismembered birds.
Pieces of birds.
Plop!
Right in front of me as I walked down the driveway to the mailbox this morning.
Whaaaaaat?
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Seriously.
Enough already!!
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It was bound to happen. You can’t evict multiple families of vermin over the course of a summer and not expect retribution.
The other day? I spotted this:
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Do you see it?
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It didn’t look impressive, just a weed growing in the gutter. But when I asked the husband to grab a ladder and remove it?
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We realized it was more like a potted plant.
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With a large amount of potting soil.
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Half of the down spout was packed with dirt and had to be removed.
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Shaken heartily.
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And unclogged with a screwdriver.
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Piles of lovely dark potting soil were packed in there for what I can only surmise were nefarious purposes.
It was momma red squirrel, I know it.
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That bitch has been plotting her revenge ever since I chased her children out of the eaves. And if you think a rodent revolution is ridiculous?
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History disagrees.
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I didn’t pray for this miracle, but I’ll take it.
Day two of the husband cleaning out the garage.
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Things were going well until he hit this corner…
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And found mouse nesting material covering whatever the hell was stored there.
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When he pulled off the filthy blanket?
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Yes. Those are corn cobs.
WTH?
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Sweeping off the pounds of nasty mess revealed this:
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Old, rusty and doesn’t work?
A keeper.
But the sweeping also revealed this:
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A tiny, squeaking baby mouse.
And when there’s a tiny, squeaking baby mouse?
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There’s a crazed mother mouse searching for it close behind.
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We spent the next half hour reuniting the little bastards, but the damage was done.
Their home had been destroyed…. like the chipmunks in the baby barn and the red squirrels in the house eaves.
Three rodent families displaced in the course of a summer.
I fear for our safety this winter.
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River's world..... 