We’ve already posted about all the critter
sighting escapades and high-tailed adventures from back in the spring, shortly
after we moved here. They were driving
us nuts as they scampered all through the attic gap between the roof deck and
the interior sheetrock. If that wasn’t
enough for this city boy – those rascals made havoc under the house each night
in the crawl space with their eerie chewing, clawing and scratching noises . .
. sometimes sounding like they had a hammer.
You’ll recall that one evening as I sat in
the den, a squirrel came walking right past me on the carpet. Minutes later I looked up and saw two
raccoons standing on our back porch peering at me through the glass door. Eventually, the cool nights of winter/spring
gave way to the hot days and blazing hot temperatures in the attic, and the
pesky wildlife looked elsewhere for their overnight stays. I finally found their secret entry points
they had gnawed through on the roof and sealed them up with heavy gauge wire
mesh. I never actually saw what ventured
under the house during that time, but knew it was bigger and meaner than a
squirrel - but smaller than a rhinoceros (of course - eros).
One good thing about the summer’s heat - -
it’s a really good deterrent to having those kind of overnight/un-invited
guests. So, I cruised along all summer
with all the remodel projects including an extreme makeover of the second bath,
as well as organizing the menagerie of wood, tools, hardware, paints, lawn and
garden stuff, and recreational toys in the garage. It’s now a real life MAN-GARAGE . . . a practical
and compartmentalized work zone – much like my own version of Home Depot.
I have a WOODWORKING DEPARTMENT where I
have all my inventory of wood scraps and wood-cutting machinery. I make a lot of sawdust, so I built a new
wall to separate this area from the HARDWARE DEPARTMENT with all other power
tools, hand-tools, plumbing and electrical supplies, etc. I like to keep a fairly tidy workspace. With my professional background, I’ve always
had a large supply of paints and painting paraphernalia, so I also set up my
handy-dandy PAINT DEPARTMENT walk-in closet.
I know what you’re starting to think – but it’s not over yet!
The garage had a nice big room on the side
that worked conveniently for all our recreational gizmos and lake house
toys. So half of that space became our OUTDOOR
LIVING DEPARTMENT, and on the other end of the room is our LAWN AND GARDEN
DEPARTMENT with everything we own for yard work. It felt so good to get that done. It only took three weeks to pull off.
Following that surge of productivity, I
was energized for the next installment of Home Improvement Maxwell Style, so I
built new patio awnings for the back and
side of the sun room. Too bad I didn’t do
this back in June because it has really helped out with keeping the sun room
cooler. Two weeks ago, the time had come
to start the demo of the master bath. I
had already leveled the kitchen and second bathroom, so I knew what was ahead
for me and I was dreading going through all that tear out. But once I lit the fuse, it was “Katy bar the
door, ‘cause there’s no stoppin’ now.”
I began by removing the old bathtub . . .
½” thick cast iron . . . 232 pounds . . . by myself. Then I cut out the floor as I had done in the
other rooms and leveled it back up to snuff.
The plumber came and installed the new Jaccuzzi tub and re-plumbed the bathroom
underneath the house. Then Rod and
Kandi, the electricians, came and did their thing to make everything work – or
work better. Then I replaced the floor
cut-outs and laid the new laminate floor.
The last few days have been occupying me with cement board backer over
the tub area, and new sheet rock. That
brings you up-to-date on the actual work here.
However, there’s an even bigger story to
tell you about what’s been happening around here the last few weeks. Fall-ish weather has brought cooler nights
back, and you know what that means.
Yep. The critters have returned
to Capistrano. About three weeks ago I
noticed a 6” hole in the scuttle-hole screen.
I knew one thing . . . the creature from down under was now down under
again. We started being awakened every
night between 2:00 - 6:00 am as the bumping and grinding resumed. During the few days when the bathroom floor
was wide open, I had the door closed for good measure (if you know what I
mean). One night I went in there to
check on something, and when I turned the light on – guess who was standing on
my ladder? A great big possum! Right there . . . inside my house!
We stared at each other for a few seconds,
then I slammed the door shut and ran around in a daze trying to figure out what
to do to get him out . . . all-the-while thinking that now I know what made
that big hole in the scuttle-hole screen.
Jeannette and I stared at each other, trying to figure out what to do. Final, I went to the garage and brought back a garden rake
(from the Lawn & Garden Department) and a cardboard box (??). My strategy was to go back in and try to pin
him down with the rake, and somehow get him in the box, which I gave to Jeannette to hold, then I would and carry him out. I also took a flashlight to try and blind him
in a stand still. All this was for
naught as while I was collecting all my possum hunting gear – he went back down
under.
I covered the gaping holes in the floor
with various size plywood scraps from the Woodworking Department, closed the
door, and called it a night. The next
morning I removed the scuttle-hole barricade altogether so the
rhinoceros-sized possum would leave for the day. He didn’t.
So Jeannette went out and bought us a nice new shiny varmint trapper from
Tractor Supply. I baited it and put it
in the opening of the scuttle-hole. He
never came out to dine . . . but the mice had a heyday eating the stinky
catfood without tripping the cage door somehow.
This happened again the next night, so on the third day, Jeannette
suggested that I set the trap under the house and close the scuttle-hole. That sounded brilliant, and I did just
that. Meanwhile, the slam bam noises
continued every night.
Finally, one evening after two
unsuccessful days and nights, no noises were coming from the underneath trap -
no sounds of a caged beast, so I decided to check the trap. You know, like fishing for a while and
pulling up your line to see if the worm was there or not. I was going to do it in a little bit, but I
was busy on the computer in the den. I
heard what sounded like a dripping shower faucet from the second bathroom area,
so I got up and started that direction.
As I got close to the door, the dripping sound stopped, so I went back
to the den.
Minutes later, I heard the dripping sounds
again, so I got up again and went to the bathroom. Turning the light on, guess who was creeping
along by the shower? The rhinoceros
possum! I couldn’t believe my eyes. The master bath floor was covered with
plywood - so how could he get into the house?
I shut the door and went into my “catch the beast routine.” Barefoot and wearing only plaid Bermuda
shorts, I ran to our closet to put on my boots to protect my feet from a
possible rhinoceros bite, then ran to my truck to get my heavy-duty work
gloves, stopped by the Lawn & Garden Department again for the killer rake -
- and I entered into a realm where no man has gone before.
I closed the bathroom door behind me and
found him hiding behind the toilet, so I teased at him with the killer rake a
few times to get him out where I could pin him down easier. It worked.
Someone had posted for our sake that you can grab a possum’s tail and
pick them up. (Yuck). But I did just
that . . . while he snarled at me and tried to squirm. That rascal was heavy, and I slipped quickly
outside because I was afraid he would poop all over me or something like
that. It was 10:00 pm and I didn’t want
to carry him off right then, so I dropped him into the garbage dumpster. I put six concrete blocks on the lid so he
couldn’t escape. Six concrete blocks
would keep a rhinoceros in that dumpster.
About that time Jeannette got home
again. She always misses hearing me
scream like a girl when I encounter the wild.
I’m a city boy you see. Animals
belong in the wild (or at the zoo) . . . not in town, and certainly not in my
house! She also didn’t get to take a
photo of me in my hunting wardrobe either.
After all was over, I realized the dripping sounds were his little paws
smacking as he walked across our vinyl laminate floor that goes from our
bedroom door, around through the kitchen, and into the hall bathroom. He was looking for water because he’d been
without food and water for days under the house. His point of entry ended up being through a
hole in the floor that the plumber made for the drain pipe under the new
bathtub in the master bath. I couldn’t
see it until I got a flashlight underneath and there it was – and wouldn’t you
know it – the same size as the hole in the scuttle-hole cover. It has since been stuffed shut with all kinds
of insulation materials and boarded up.
That
was Saturday night Oct. 5, so the next day after church and having guests over
for lunch, I pinned him in the bottom of the dumpster with the now famous rake
and grabbed his tail again. (Yuck
again). This time I was able to use the
shiny new live trap to drop him into for safe cartage to a remote place down at
the park, about two miles away. Now he’s
somebody else’s nuisance at night.
And here it is in pictures.
And here it is in pictures.
Lastly, I permanently covered the outside scuttle-hole
with a brand new heavy-duty wire screen.
It’s so strong . . . a rhinoceros couldn’t penetrate it. J
