Peter and I were lying in bed . . .
(don't you love it when a post starts out all steamy like that?)
Of course it's not what you think.
Staring up at the ceiling listening to what sounds like a microwave sized rodent inviting his microwave sized friends into our attic for a wood and insulation chewing party. This has been going on for a couple of weeks. Pete decides to go check it out so he pulls down the stairs and gets a nice squirrel poop shower (Note to self, don't laugh so much next time that happens.) before heading up to investigate. The attic totally reeked-- I may never get the smell out of my unused scrapbooking supplies, or my wedding dress. Which still totally fits.
Of course it was a squirrel.
May I quote the great Sarah Jessica Parker, "A squirrel is a rat with a cute outfit."
So I called animal control who tells me that they won't take care of it unless the rodent is in an actual living space (hmm, the government will pay to teach my kid to crawl, but they won't protect me from getting rabies? Ahh the irony.) So we have to call private company to do it.
Critter Control Prices:
set the trap: $250
squirrel removal fee (per squirrel): $50
Repair the holes on the roof: $350
Roof vent guard, to keep them from coming in through the roof vent of course: $295
Peter's anger after I burst into laughter when Critter Guy Chad asks me if my husband is a "do it yourself guy."
You guessed it.
Here's the worst part, they just set the stupid animals free. They can't kill 'em, they aren't even allowed to leave 'em in a trap overnight 'cause PETA's all up in their bid'ness.
I'm sorry. If I have to pay a grand for a squirrel, I want the little sucker. He's mine.