Mr. Squirrel vs. The Man

Caddyshack was a hit movie in the 1980's.  One of the stars was Bill Murray as a possessed maintenance  man of a golf course.  His Nemesis was the gopher.  He would stop at nothing to remove Mr. Gopher from the golf holes.  Doug has a similar situation on our acreage.  Mr. Squirrel has decided Doug's man-cave shed is a squirrel's cozy mansion.  It has driven Doug to madness!

Let me first say in our 13 moves we have always fed the cute bushy-tailed squirrels.  We have squandered money on squirrel food and feeders.  They have provided us hours of laughter at their antics.  Our entire family loved watching the cute rodents ride the ferris-wheel like feeder trying to stuff as much corn in their mouths before slipping to the ground.  But moving to the country has blinded Doug to the beauty of these animals. 

I noticed something was amiss when the live trap appeared beside the corner of the shed.  "Honey, what is the trap doing by the shed?'" I inquired.

A wild look came into Doug's eyes.  "There is a squirrel in my shed and he is getting dirt and grass and straw all over my workbench!"   He practically popped an artery in his neck chocking out this one sentence.

"Can't you just sweep the debris off the bench and go on with your work?"  Doug isn't prone to laziness, but he is a man.

"You don't understand.  That squirrel is up in the rafters of the shed peeing and pooping and soon the roof will be caving in on my head!"

I have been in the shed.  It had never rained poop or roofing material on my head.

Nature verses Doug was in full battle. When the trap didn't yield more than dirt, he confiscated the used cat litter and sprinkled it around the perimeter of shed.  The odor of the cat urine was supposed to disgust the squirrel and send him packing.  It must have been a cat loving squirrel.  He scurried into the shed mindless of the cat stench. 

Doug crawled like a snake around the shed searching for the squirrel entry.  He found a minuscule hole in the wood where Mr. Squirrel had chewed his way in.  I awoke to insistent banging the next morning.  Doug had gone out at predawn hours waiting for the squirrel to exit the shed.  At which time Doug began to nail every piece of scrap lumber he owned over the squirrel door. 

Next Doug stood sentry at the kitchen window, binoculars in hand.  It wasn't long before Mr. Squirrel had finished his breakfast and tried to return home for a nap.  Squirrel was not pleased to find his door barricaded.  He paced back and forth.  He stood up on his hind legs and thought.  He then preceded to chew another whole six inches away. 

Doug then tried to communicate with the squirrel in sign language.

The next plan of action for Doug was to bury cement blocks under the large shed doors.  He reinforced the inside of the doors with steel.  If the squirrel tried to get in, he was going to need some dental work.

Whistling and happy with himself Doug went to work in his man cave.  The scurry of little squirrel feet above his head stopped him in his tracks.  He didn't care how the squirrel got in.  He didn't care that I love to watch squirrel antics.  He just wanted that blank-a-dee-blank squirrel out of his space.

Doug stormed into the house and grabbed our loaf of bread.  The live cage was loaded in the shed with six pieces of bread and positioned inside the shed. 

The next morning the squirrel had a feast of bread before he was relocated to his new home up the hill.  I suppose he can be friends with Stripes.  They can reminisce about the good old days on the Kiem acreage.