I have begun to hate chipmunks with a passion I usually reserve for murderers and drunk drivers. At times it is all consuming; I plot ways to grab them by their stubby tails and swing them like a lasso about my head, releasing them into someone else’s wild. Other times, I find their antics amusing and cannot wait to tell Husband the sitcom like scenario that just played out in front of me.
I know they are useful. Owls eat them and I like Owls. I spend way too much time sitting in the window willing the Owls to come and grab one for dinner. But the garden is dotted with holes. The apartment like stone wall is a maze of tunnels and the suckers move in and out of there like… well, I have no idea what like. Really freakin’ fast – and then they pop up somewhere else like those dang whack-a-moles. Tigger the Dog is going mental. I’m not that far behind her. So I researched ways to get them to move out. I didn’t want to poison them. It’s a slow painful death and that’s just mean. Besides, I might accidently kill Owl. So, I looked for non-lethal ways like dropping mothballs and pepper in their tunnels but they didn’t work. The chipmunks just pushed the mothballs out of the hole and dug a new one next to the peppered one. The garden smelled like a grandma with a penchant for spicy food. And still we had chipmunks. Yesterday was a day of itchy chipmunk hate. I think they’ve multiplied by a million. They were everywhere. The plants, that I passively planted and pretend to care for, were dying, their roots disturbed by tunnels. I went online, looking for a chipmunk killer that would do the job for me. I was prepared to slip money to a stranger in a dark bar to make them go away. And then I came across the Chipper Dipper suggestion. The Chipper Dipper is a five-gallon bucket filled with water. A layer of sunflower seeds across the top and a board ramp leading up to the top with seeds teasing the way. Animal lovers judge away but read on. I’m not proud. I looked. I considered and then I built one. But I’m wimpy and pessimistic. And I didn’t really think it would work. And if it did, I didn’t want to actually kill a little bugger. Well, I did, but not really. I wanted them gone but not hurt. I was morally torn but still frustrated and pissed - so I built the Chipper Dipper, set it up in the garden and walked away. Hours later, Husband and I came out to see the rabbits chasing each other in the yard and watched Tigger the Dog chasing them. I wandered over to my bucket to see if anyone had been stupid enough to take the bait and low and behold, it had caught one! He was alive, in water up to his shoulders, wet and pissed. I squealed. I didn’t know what to do next. Tigger the Dog came over to check out the bucket, stuck her head in to see what was making all the noise and Chipmunk snapped at her. TTD yelped and jumped back. Husband tried to get TTD to go to him while I dumped the bucket over to let Chipmunk free. TTD faked like she was listening, waited till I tipped the bucket and then, when soggy Chipmunk took off –TTD followed. Fast. Because TTD thought she was suddenly playing a game of tag with her new friend and she was determined to win. It was a frantic scramble across the yard. TTD was close, almost tagged Chipmunk with her teeth but Chipmunk disappeared into the chipmunk apartment building that is our patio wall and was gone. TTD spent the next fifteen minutes trying to get him to come out and play again but Chipmunk stayed out of reach, cussing us out. We finally got our now adrenaline filled dog inside and left Chipmunk alone to tell his community about his traumatizing near death trip to get dinner. And just like that, my short career as a chipmunk murderer is over. Until one of those suckers ends up in the house. Then it’s game on!
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AuthorMy name is ej. I'm a girl. I say that because with the short hair and the short initials, folks aren't always sure. More brilliant insights to who I am in About me Archives
April 2019
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