'Possum Wrangling Retirement...Correction: SEMI-RETIREMENT!

Not a peep out of any opossum since the day after I shipped Santy Claws out to the hinterlands. I'm a little disappointed. I was hoping to catch a second opossum so Santy Claws would have his friend with him. No noise. No sightings. I can only imagine the second opossum must have realize after that first night Santy Claws was missing and went looking for him, leaving for good. Or something else was making the noise and I have no idea what it was.

I hope it's all over. I removed the trap and will soon return it to my neighbor. Hopefully for good.

Well, that lasted a few days!  I notice something is adjusting the netting again so either the friend of Santy Claws was here checking on him or something else knows about the hole. Here we go again! It feels like my fortress is under siege. The Winter War. Last night I put the trap back out there right next to the hole and found nothing to show for my efforts the next morning. So frustrating.

The Hole. Hmmm.... Years ago I hired a crawlspace/insulation person to put screening under the house to keep the critters out. Today, as a last ditch effort to secure the perimeter,  I got desperate, donned a very un-fashionable construction-man jumpsuit, hat, gloves, goggles, boots and using an extension cord with a light bulb on the end of it ventured under the house. Nasty place. It's like evil lives there. Dark, damp, cobwebs with big ugly spiders and remnants of things they've devoured. And then there is the cayenne pepper I've thrown all over in hopes of sanctifying the evil and discouraging the creepy crawlies. Sure enough one of the critters figured out how to bend the screen back to create a nice little hole to slip through. I plugged it up with bricks and readjusted the screen.  I feel fortunate to have survived the expedition.

Then I sneezed for the next hour while my eyes watered uncontrollably. I'm not sure why Santy Claws doesn't care about the cayenne pepper?

Update: Not a peep. I think the war has been won.

Round Ten

Feeling pretty defeated after two weeks of 'possum wrangling and no opossum to show for it, I called the Wildlife Control company in my area. I got a voice message saying to leave a message. I didn't. I decided I'd call them tomorrow. I had a little more fight left in me although I'm not sure where I got the energy having spent most of the night listening to Santy Claws tap dance underneath my house.

I needed a new plan. I bought some luncheon meat as suggested by my trapper-neighbor. It was either that or marshmallows and luncheon meat was half the price. If I catch the neighbor's cat, he gets a free trip to no where. Not like I haven't fantasized about that! After much contemplation, I selected the "Honey Turkey" flavor thinking Santy Claws would like that best. I ran into my friend at checkout and told her I was grocery shopping for a opossum. A OPOSSUM!!! Unbelievable. She laughed.

I also moved the trap. Obviously it wasn't working at the shed even though that is where a Santy Claws hole is located. I went to the other known hole on the other side of the house next to the driveway and unblocked it, removing all the chicken wire, boulders and boards. The place where I first met Santy Claws. I thought, "It has come full circle...." I unblocked the hole, set up the trap just right so he couldn't get wily and trip it, sprinkled tuna juice and salmon juice all around, and strategically placed the honey turkey front and center on top the apple cores, blueberries, tuna, and bananas that were already in the trap although a little soggy from the last rain. I placed boards over the trap to shield it from the rain. I blocked the shed hole. This was my last hope. If it didn't work, I planned to call Wildlife Control and pay some big bucks to have a brave soul venture into the crawlspace and yank the Santy Claws out by his tail. Why can't I catch a opossum like everyone else? Woe is me.

The great thing about this new set up is it's right under my bedroom window. For the last two weeks I'd been getting up in the middle of the night to peer out the window in hopes of seeing the success of my efforts. It's been exhausting. I hoped instead of hearing hours of tap dancing I would hear a nice big BANG as the trap door closed shut. I left my window open so I wouldn't miss the excitement.

At 11:30pm I awoke to a slight, soft rattling noise. Hmmmm...one is never sure about noises in the middle of the night. I listened and waited. Then another rattle...rattle...rattle...BANG! BANG! BANG! Santy Claws was not too happy about being a prisoner. It sounded like he was annihilating the cage or someone was rolling it down the driveway. I just laid there smiling.

Awww...so cute.

 

I considered letting him sit in that trap until morning as punishment for his bad behavior, but I knew I wouldn't get any sleep. Considering how clever he is, I was afraid he'd somehow figure out how to open the door and sneak out. I wouldn't get another chance for sure. And I wanted to let him loose in the dark so he would feel more comfortable in a strange place.

He was so cute!  Fluffy fat body with a tiny little face and beautiful, beady eyes. When I'd get close to the cage he'd get real still and stare at me. Not a mean bone in his little body. No growling, snarling, hissing or showing of fangs. I kinda wanted to cuddle with him. He also ate all the food so at least he would be full and satisfied when I dumped him out in the middle of no where.



"OK, I ate everything. Now let me out."

At exactly midnight, Santy Claws had a new home about two miles away, up a logging road, in the woods, where I dump all my garden clippings. Lots of places for him to hide and far from a highway. I can't believe I was driving around in the woods at midnight.



A Opossum Possessed! LET ME OUTTA HERE!

Adios, Santy Claws! Don't come back! I'm so happy he's no longer using my insulation for a bed and overjoyed that he was not poisoned and dead under my house. You can't imagine how wonderful I felt! Total satisfaction.

For about a day...the next morning the tapping started again. Santy Claws must have a friend. I need some more Honey Turkey luncheon meat. Maybe I'll buy some marshmallows for his dessert.

The joys of country living.

Santy Claws = 8 Possum Wrangler = 0

Round 9.

How many rounds does one go in boxing before they've lost? I think I've lost, but I haven't given up!

With much disappointment, I dismantled the garbage can traps. On the light blue garbage can I could see little paw prints where Santy Claws was trying to figure out how to get to the food without getting stuck. They were on the rim and about five inches down the inside. He was reaching as far as his little arms could go without falling in. He is definitely an exceptionally smart opossum.

So it's time to get serious. Traps are really expensive. They can be rented from the Humane Society, but, hey, wait a minute! I'm surrounded by hunters and trappers. My neighbor has been bragging to everyone he has trapped at least forty raccoons and opossums in the last year. When I saw him outside today I asked him if he would help me catch my pet opossum that is residing under my house. I added I haven't heard the opossum for a while so he might have left. He said, "Oh, no. Once make themselves at home, they don't leave." I didn't tell him Santy Claws might be dead. So he loaned me his trap!

I hope it works. I put some tasty treats for bait: 1/2 banana and an apple core. Trapper guy said sometimes it doesn't trigger. I'm more worried Santy Claws will get caught because it's been freezing at night. I don't want him to stay out there too long so I think I'll leave my window open and hopefully when the trap snaps, I'll hear it.

I'm excited!!



Ho! Ho! Ho! You can't catch me!

New Year's Resolution: Catch the Santy Claws.

Santy Claws in Chicago

 

I read online trapping and relocating a opossum is like someone kidnapping you from your home, transporting you in a cage, dumping you blindfolded in the middle of the night in the middle of Chicago, and leaving you to fend for yourself. No home, no food, no money, no cell phone, no friends. In a bad neighborhood. Lots of subversives wanting to do you harm and not knowing where you can go to be safe.

 

Oh! That makes me feel so bad! So I'm torn. If I don't relocate the Santy Claws, he will either die from the neighbor's poison, another neighbor will shoot him, or best case scenario, my neighbor across the street will trap and relocate him. I'm thinking I don't have a choice.

But I feel very sad for Santy Claws. Too bad he can't be trained to live under the shed and stay out from under my house. I'd even feed him. Free room and board to guard my property against rats, mice, slugs, snails and anything dead. (They eat dead animals.) I think that's a fair trade if only I could talk him into it.

If I had a lot of property like fifty acres, I'd build a little opossum-proof house and have everyone relocate their opossums to my property.  I'd have to join the Society for Opossum Lovers.

The same website said to put ammonia in little bowls with cloth in the area where you don't want your visitor. I put five bowls of ammonia under my house...




Santy Claws Foils the 'Possum Wrangler, Again

He ate the blueberry trails. Both of them. He ate the blueberry positioned right at the top of the garbage can! He ate the tiny bit of banana at the other garbage can. He didn't get in either trap.

Drats....

I am perplexed. I think Santy Claws is an exceptionally wise and clever opossum.

Patience, 'Possum Wrangler'.



Santy Claws Has Disappeared?

R.I.P. Santy Claws

Either Santy Claws doesn't care for the gourmet meal I've laid out for him or he's lying dead under my house.

I hope he's not dead....

I heard him around midnight last night briefly and then nothing. He was not in either trap this morning. Maybe another neighbor caught him and hauled him off?

I hope he's not dead....

On the chance he is alive and well, I snagged some sweet smelling bananas, blueberries and tomatoes from the half-off and out dated stock at the grocery store. I left a trail of blueberries to the traps. If he's still around, I don't know how he will be able to resist such a fine spread.

I hope he's not dead....

Santy Claws is Winning

"I'm the winner...ha..ha..ha."

I doubt if Santy Claws even looked at the garbage can last night. I didn't go out into the yard this time because I wonder if last time I scared him too much. I didn't see him through the living room window.

In the morning I checked the hole entrance. The newspaper hadn't been moved so either he didn't leave all night or he has another hole somewhere. I've looked all over. I guess it doesn't matter if he has another hole. I just need him to get in a trap. I removed the newspaper so he has easy access to the yard and trap.

He didn't tap dance much last night either. Hardly any noise. I hope he's not dying under my house.

So...I added another trap. This time in the shed so it won't get wet with rain and located on the other side of the yard so he now has a choice.

A 'possum wrangler must be patience...

'Possum Wrangling (My New Winter Project)

I'm learning a lot about opossums. Did you know if you have a opossum on the property you won't have any rats, mice, snakes, slugs or snails? Opossums are an excellent pest control strategy. Still, I know he's under the house making nests out of my insulation and maybe even damaging my heat ducts. If I could train him to live in the shed and be pleasant, I'd let him stay.

Yum. Yum.

So, round three.

At first light I inspected the area behind the shed. Unfortunately, there is only about a foot between the back of the shed and the fence so it's hard to get at and hard to even see. There IS a hole going under the shed barely visible! This confirms he's using those old vole runs underneath the garden. Obviously the tunnels go under my house and come up somewhere in the crawlspace which gives me the willies. I read a website that suggests stuffing newspaper in the hole. When he comes out at dusk he will push the newspaper away and that is the indication that he is out for the evening. One is supposed to sprinkle flour around so as to see his tracks go in and out, but it's so wet from the downpour of rain, it wouldn't work here.

Hard to see but the fence is on the right (yellowy-brown)
and the shed is the off white on the left. Right in the
middle of the photo between the blackberry canes
you can see the bottom edge of the
shed and some of the newspaper sticking out.
 

ALSO, about two feet away there is a hole in the fence! Ah ha! He has been here a while making all kinds of secret escapes and passageways. This could be how he was disappearing so fast, unless he just went into the hole under the shed.

About the time of my first spotting of him, my neighbors who are not living in their house had a pest control company walking around their property. I wondered why. I found out today when I contacted them the pest control man screened off their house to get rid of him. Not sure how they knew if he was in or out since it was all done during the day, or maybe they entrapped the Mrs. Santy Claws and she died under the house? Maybe that's why they moved out of the house? Dead opossum bodies would stink to high heaven. Thanks a lot stupid, inconsiderate neighbors for doing a half-ass job and forcing Santy Claws to take up residence at my house! They also told me they have placed poison around the house. Idiots! I hope Santy Claws finds his way to my trap or he is doomed! If he dies under my house, I'm doomed!


My goal is to capture him before I seal off the hole. I want to make sure he's out. I've tweaked the trap to make it (hopefully) more effective.

 

First, I sheltered the garbage can with bigger and better plastic so if he does finally crawl in he won't be sitting there freezing in the rain.

 

Second, I've also given him a smorgasbord of food to eat to keep him busy while he waits for me to take him away. The food co-op I shop at gave me some overripe persimmons and I added some tuna. With the peanut butter, a three-course gourmet meal is waiting for him!


Now I just wait...

Santy Claws is the Wily Coyote

At 2 am right on the mark, Santy Claws is making noise. No more scratching. It sounds like something tapping on wood. When the noise stops, I get out of bed and look out the window to see if he's found my trap. I don't see him. I get impatient so I venture outside.

I hate going outside in the middle of the night with all the sharp-fanged wild beasts running around. I arm myself with a flashlight and head up the side of the house to the front. I SEE SANTY CLAWS! He's running the perimeter of my fence and coming toward me. AWAY from the trap. Drats! Again, he's blinded by my flashlight so he doesn't understand I'm connected to it. It's so freaky to have a wild beast running toward you. He runs behind one of my sheds and disappears. Hmmm...I need him to go the other way. To the trap.

I don't understand why the trap wasn't attractive, but I also wonder where the hell he went. I walk around the to other side of the shed and I heard a noise. Is he IN the shed? I have an open entrance for Peter, although Peter never uses it. I block the entrance. I get closer to the back of the shed and I can see Santy Claws between shed and the fence facing out away from me. I think he's looking for me and wondering if it's safe to leave. I scare him out and he runs away, along the perimeter of the fence and again, past the trap and disappears again. Damn.

I go back into the house and watch from the living room window because he's over by the trap and I don't want to stress him so he forgets he's hungry. Here comes Santy again, right past the trap. He totally ignores it. This makes me mad!

I head back outside to the front yard, he's slowly and cautiously waddling again around the perimeter of the fence toward me. I make some noise and he waddles at little faster. What do I do? Oddly enough, I have a cage over one of my plants to keep Peter from eating it. Ah ha! I grab the cage and as Santy is coming around the bend I THROW the cage on top of him!!

It would have worked wonderfully but he was in the garden and the mounds of dirt are not level so he quickly escaped through a space under the cage. He runs behind the shed again, but this time he totally disappears.

Now I have to say, I had a very large stick in my hands. It's actually the handle to an old shovel so it's less like stick and more like a bat. My weapon-stick. I could have beaten the life out of Santy Claws. Well, actually, I couldn't have. As frustrating as he is, there is a weird cuteness about him I rather like. This may change. It would be in his best interest to get into my trap voluntarily.

I decide the peanut butter isn't attractive enough so I open a can of tuna, take the juice and splash it on the ramp and in the garbage can. I go back to the shed hoping he's back to his hiding tricks, but he's not anywhere.

In the house I can hear him under the house again making tapping sounds! I think there must be a hole behind the shed that goes under and comes out under the house? Hmmm...I wonder if he's using some unknown underground system? I once dug up the garden right next to the shed in preparation for potatoes. For potatoes one needs to dig deep and about a foot down I discovered a huge hole, tunnel to be exact. I was told we have a problem with Thompson voles in this area. I guess they are like a cross between a rat and a mole and they tunnel under gardens to get from place to place, snacking on roots as they go. Creepy. At the time I poured garlic, onion, cayenne pepper into the tunnel and filled it with gravel. Did Santy Claws find an entrance and claim the passage way as his own?

I watch for him to come back out...he's got to be attracted to that tuna. Eventually. Hopefully before it rains again.

He's now  tormenting me with his incessant tapping. It's only 4am. One more hour before he retires for the night.

Damn...foiled again.

I'm not giving up! I think tomorrow I'll remove all the chicken wire since he can get under the house anyway. This might give him easier access to the trap.  The plan now is not so much to keep him out from under the house since he has secret passage ways, but to get him in the trap.

I am determined.

Note: At daylight I'll add some photos.

The Return of Santy Claws

As expected, Santy Claus returned Christmas morning at 5am. Twice on Christmas and he still didn't leave me any toys!

I need to get rid of him. Opossums are creatures of habit and I have a feeling he's made himself right at home and will return all the time to check if there is an opening. Or he'll make an opening. I'd also like to someday remove all that chicken wire and boards so it doesn't look so horrible.

While researching animal traps online, I read quite a bit on how easy opossums are to catch. They aren't real fast, smart or agile. When caged, as long as you don't scare them senseless causing them to hiss and defend themselves, they will sit quietly pretending they aren't there. There are videos online of kids catching opossums and try as they might they can hardly get the thing out of the cage to release it because it's cowering in a corner. I also read mothers with babies transport them in and out of their hidding places in her pouch or hanging off her back so they won't be separated.

On a website featuring how to make a homemade box trap, one commenter gave an easy trapping option using your garbage can. I'm intrigued! Directions:

1.) Set the garbage can where you know the opossum will travel.

2.) Place a board up the side of the garbage can as a ramp. Make sure it is long enough and strong enough to hold the opossum.

Yummy peanut butter.

3.) Put bait inside the garbage can: fish, ripe fruit, peanut butter. They like smelly stuff. I'm using peanut butter.

4.) Wait. They only come out at night.

The opossum will smell the food, crawl up the board, climb in and he can't get out! They aren't jumpers and the sides of the garbage can are too slick for them to latch on to anything and crawl out.

5.) Put the garbage can lid on top and relocate him far away.

So I'm going to give it a try! Problem around here is it rains too much so finding a dry spot to put the can is impossible. I've remedied it a bit by putting the can in the corner of the garden right next to the fence and hanging some plastic over. Might help a little. The fence also supports the board so it won't fall over when Santy Claus is crawling in. I know he likes this corner of the garden because it's his toilet. Grrrrr....

The things I do for entertainment!

Creatures Are Stirring...But It's Not a Mouse!

Ho! Ho! Ho!

Twas the night before Christmas...This began a few weeks ago when leaving extra early for my morning walk, at 5am, I encountered a very large rodent-looking visitor outside my house. I chased him down the driveway and around the corner, but I've been living in the country long enough to know that would only be the beginning of the Winter War. I became watchful, paranoid, ready to defend my home against all intruders. Opossums included.

I once saw a cat disappear under my house. For a long time I didn't realize it was a convenient shortcut to the other side of the property to slither under the shingles through a small opening hidden from view above the brick skirting. When I first bought the house I hired someone to nail screening underneath it so small animals couldn't get in. Unfortunately, he couldn't put enough screening at the crawlspace entrance or no one could get in for maintenance. When I saw the cat still using the opening, I ended up stuffing deer netting up under the shingles at that spot as a precautionary measure and adding a board in hopes of blocking the entrance.

Problem with this half-assed solution is it gave opossum something to play with, a challenge. I didn't realize this until the early morning hours on the day before Christmas when I heard scratch, scratch, scratch outside my window.

At first light I checked and the netting was adjusted just so and the noise I heard must have been from opossum scratching his way up the board and under the shingles.

All day yesterday I worried about what opossum might be doing underneath the house: destroying my heat vents for warmth, making a nice cozy bed out of the insulation, camping in the furnace? Although I knew what time he went in for bed, I had no idea what time he awoke. As soon as the sun went down, I was watching the driveway. Every hour I'd grab my flashlight, raincoat, rain boots and head outside into the cold. Nice way to spend Christmas eve.

At 2 am I wake to scratch, scratch, scratch. This is it! Creatures ARE stirring! I quietly grabbed the flashlight and ran outside. I can see where he has moved the netting. OH! THERE HE IS! Santy Claws has come to town!

Oh! You better watch out, you better not cry, you better not pout, I'm telling you why, Santy Claws is coming to town.... This song has a whole new meaning for me now as I'm watching out, crying, and pouting about having rodents living with me!

 

Santy Claws (I think he's a "he", hopefully not a she with babies or she'll be more than determined to get back under the house!) was waddling away from the newly opened entrance about five feet down the driveway. I turned my flashlight on him and hissed hoping to expedite his exit, but it scared him, the light blinded him, he turns toward me and runs at me back to the entrance! Didn't expect that! If he gets back under the house, I might not get another chance! I run at him and meet him only one foot from where he came out and before he can jump in, I hit him on his snout with the flashlight! Santy Claws backs away and hightails it down the driveway away from the house.

This is my chance! I grab the chicken wire and unroll it across the whole side of the house, placing boards, boulders and heavy post pieces strategically along so he can't get under or over. Of course, I'm frantically getting this done in the pouring rain, in my pajamas, without a raincoat because I was in too much of a hurry.

Then I double checked the rest of the house. I did this earlier and didn't see anything, but I wanted to make sure as this was my only chance to barricade knowing (hoping) he wasn't under the house. I took more chicken wire and placed it around my deck. There is already lattice around, but Santy Claws isn't very big, maybe an adolescent, so I wanted to make sure he can't squeeze through somewhere. Heaven help me if he somehow slithered under the house on the far side before I got there and I've trapped him in!

More concentration-camp decor...

We'll see if that works.  Opossums aren't rats, but marsupials. You'd think he'd be a good friend for Peter. I've heard opossums not only kill chickens, but will go after a rabbit. Not on my watch! Peter is actually bigger than Santy Claws, but Peter doesn't have his sharp claws and fangs. If this doesn't deter Santy Claws, I'll have to invest in a trap and ship him far, far away.

 

All my neighbors have traps. One of them told me he awoke one night and found baby opossums in bed with him! I was hoping to move before I saw the need to purchase a trap, but I can also use it for raccoons and the neighbor's cat. Perhaps the time has come. A trap might be a cheaper solution to keep the cats out of my garden than all this chicken wire I use.


Can I go back to bed now?

What a way to spend Christmas!