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!