Wednesday, November 29, 2006

I am such a friggin' moron...

We bought a house in September. I'll post pictures at some point, but that's not what this story's about, completely.

We bought a house. There's a spot in one of the eaves that's been partially destroyed, and we knew we'd have to fix it at some point. We were about to borrow a ladder and get it done when I saw a cute lil' squirrel head poking out of the hole in the eave.

"Fuck," I thought, and called Le Wif up to check it out. The little creature bounded out of the hole, on to the roof/overhang above the back door, and hopped onto a branch and made his getaway.

I used to think squirrels were cute. Now, they're vagrant assholes that are living off of me. Anyone familiar with The Punisher? That's kind of how I feel. Except I figured that I'd take a more cerebral approach than making my house blow up.

Le Wif and I did some Internet research and figured the best way to handle the problem would be with some live traps and peanut butter. We'd then take the live trap, fill up a garbage can with water, and presto! Squirrel problem solved.

Easy enough.

So I chummed the trap for a while (for those not familiar with trapping animals, it's a term for baiting but not setting a trap, so that the animal will get used to eating there with no consequence--and that's how you get 'em), noting the squirrels' activities--they were getting to the bait in the morning or early evening. Whatever.

About a week or so later (read: this week), I started setting the trap in the evening, and then leaving it not set while Le Wif and I were at work. No squirrels.

Today, I left the trap set, and as I walked home, I knew there'd be a squirrel in it. And there was. I took off my jacket (I wore a suit to work today--a story barely too long to relate right now), dumped my bag, and went upstairs to retrieve the little fucker.

I untied the rope that I'd secured the trap to the roof with, and took the freeloading a-hole back outside, next to the garbage can. I turned the water on, waited for the can to fill up. When it was finally full, I dropped the trap in.

This is where I went wrong.

The live traps have these little wires that you place a certain way so that the trap will stay shut. I didn't think. Or bother to think. Some shit floats in water, and the rules of physics change a little when stuff gets submerged.

The wires came out of their "locked" position and the bastard hopped out of the trap, out of the garbage can, and exploded into the woods.

"Fuck," I said aloud, and then went back inside, wet, empty trap in hand. All that success for one abject failure.

If at first you don't succeed...

Kill a goddamn squirrel today.

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