Race Tracks and Sarlaac
January 10, 2007

We bought this house back in 2002, I think. It was 50 years old, and one of the few brick homes in our town within the subset of: we could afford the thing. It needed a little tuckpointing and a few minor things here and there, but it really wasn't a fixer-upper kind of house. (Let me note: all houses are fixer-uppers ... this was not one of those, gee, it'll be a great house if someone will put two years of work and 10,000 bucks into it.)

Three years ago now ... we were invaded by chipmunks. They would frolic in front of our huge picture window, dancing in and out of the ground cover planted outside. I was enthralled that entire summer. I have adored the cute li'l critters for ages and ages and was just delighted with the chance to watch them all summer.

Fall happened. It got cold.

We didn't ever get around to tuckpointing the house.

Can you see where this is going?

Asleep in the bed one Saturday morning, I am awakened to an odd scrabbling noise. Above my head. In the ceiling.

The chipmunks are no longer adorable when they are making a nice comfy nest in the insulation above your head. Particularly not when you're a light sleeper. We place traps. They eat the peanut butter gleefully. They ran off with the glue trap. At least one ate the green bar of poison bait -- and lived. We went up to the attic in the day when they were out of the attic and tried to block any kind of hole we could find.

Either that worked or they only nested during the coldest times ... because it stopped.

We had the dead tree in the backyard chopped down. Branches sized for a wood chipper sat around the backyard for months before we managed to actually rent the woodchipper and haul it back to the house. The chipmunks grew fat and multiplied.

We chased them off partly by means that I won't tell now ... I'll save that story for another day ... and partly by simply cleaning up the damn yard. The next winter was blissfully quiet. I thought that was the end of that.

Bloody fooken hell, it was NOT.

There is a freaking village of mice in the attic now. Traps have managed to catch two. I was horribly traumatized by the caught mouse on the glue trap. The second I caught in the live trap and released several miles away. The rest ... grew wary.

They have a nice little living space directly above my head. There's a bar-n-grill over by the front door to the house - they refuse to eat the lovely mothballs I attempted to put on their menu. But above my recliner in the living room ... that's their real hot spot.

The mice have their own Nascar track.

You think I'm kidding? Dude, I will be sitting there in the evening and all of a sudden I can hear the throngs of fans taking up positions in a freaking oval. A hush. And then all hell breaks loose as two of the little beasts run in an oval at top speed for at least 3-5 laps.

They're not good sports, these mice. The loser invariably squeals and squeaks and squreams in angry denial over the loss.

Of course, I think the Mutant Chipmunk, the one who ate of the poison and lived (he looks like a freaking baseball ... not just fat ... this sucker is ROUND), I think the Mutant Chipmunk is perhaps the Jabba the Hutt of my Tatooine attic. I'm beginning to wonder if they don't just feed the loser to the Mutant Chipmunk. It would explain the frantic preparations of the race and the over-reaction at the end.

I'm about ready to ask Luke to come kill these darn womp rats and feed them to the Sarlaac pit.

Posted by Red Monkey at January 10, 2007 8:13 PM | Storytelling: She was, of course, supposed to be sleeping. | | StumbleUpon Toolbar Stumble |


MsDemmie said:

You do know there is a sign down the road advertising warm digs in your roof space ? It is in chipmonk, racoon, and mouse!

January 11, 2007 7:19 AM


red said:

I think Ms is right...lol

January 11, 2007 11:44 AM


blueyes said:

Get yourself a cat...when a rat camped out in my walls she had babies who ventured out in the open when the mother ate the poison cuz i didnt know there were babies and my cat managed to trap 2, one ended up dying underneath my bathroom sink cuz I couldnt get it and it never got out apparently and the second one i picked up and tossed out the door. ANother one died in teh walls...ewww

January 11, 2007 7:51 PM


blueyes said:

ACtuall you got cats, train them better

January 11, 2007 7:51 PM


mike said:

Well...I'm all teary-eyed and weepy about this li'l problem you have myself.


January 11, 2007 10:19 PM

Actually it is just the "Sarlacc" who lives in the "Pit of Carkoon". And yes, I am a dork.

Red Monkey says: I was waiting for someone to bust me on that! LMSAO After all, I'd hate to be the only dork out there! :)
January 13, 2007 4:54 PM
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