Thursday, October 8, 2009
Squirrels, Squirrels, Squirrels!
Recently Gene and I moved in to a new apartment. It is a huge upgrade from the haunted house we lived in that had a kitchen so small you couldn't put the dishwasher door down and open the back door at the same time. The stove also tilted. In addition to this being a serious fire hazard (I'm pretty sure gas stoves aren't supposed to tilt) it made cooking very cumbersome. Any-who our new place is great, it has a washer/dryer, garbage disposal and even central air! Oh my. It is hard to move from a house with a backyard to a big box apartment but the amenities (or basic living requirements, however you look at it) have made it worth it. That is before the squirrels. That's right, squirrels. Rats with cuter outfits.
The second or third week we moved in we started hearing rustling noises above our bed. Let me be clear, not scurrying across the roof noises, but living behind the dry wall noises. There's a big difference. Anyways, it was weird and a little gross but I didn't mind it so much until last Friday night. As Gene says, "It sounded like they had a raging party and managed to fit themselves with teeny-tiny tap dancing shoes." It was bad. Really, really bad. They scurried around all night and at one point the leader, I presume, started barking. The barking was followed by incessant chirping for about an hour, I assume they were telling each other how to be as loud as freaking possible. It was so bad, after pounding on the ceiling at 3am (I'm sure the neighbors enjoyed that), Gene went to sleep on the couch. I didn't sleep all night.
So, the next morning in his sleepy stupor, Gene called and left an urgent message with the management explaining the tap dancing squirrels and his inability to sleep. We didn't hear back for a couple of days, and after their crazy Friday night feista the squirrels seemed to quiet down. After three days of no response, I called our super friendly (insert loads of sarcasm) management staff and inquired about the status of the squirrel relocation or eradication program. The woman replied, while hanging up the phone, "Terminex is on it." Great, Terminex is on the case.
We came home last night to a note from a Terminex technician informing us that "after thorough inspection of the attic there are no rodents present." He later went on, I think rather mockingly, to suggest that the squirrels were probably in the trees above our roof and we were simply mistaken to believe they were in our apartment. Excuse me? Again, I repeat-- this isn't a little bit of scurrying rodent noise, these guys sound like they are 3 feet from our bed. So, after harassing the management staff, and waiting for Terminex for a week, the verdict? We're crazy.
Of course, Gene was not content with this answer, neither was I but what can you do? Gene's response was to put on a headlamp and crawl in to the attic to investigate for himself. For the record I was against this idea as he hasn't had a rabies shot in quite some time. Naturally, he ignored me and I served as a spotter as he attempted to crawl in to the attack. After realizing that he couldn't lift himself up there he just poked his head around for a few minutes and reported no squirrels. Our new theory? They live in the space between our bedroom and our bathroom. I drew the line when Gene suggested hoisting the puppy in to the grate to see what she could find. I think he was kidding, at least I hope so.
So, after all that we still have squirrels. Gene said something about implied warranty of habitability. I just want them to go away or at least have quieter parties so I can go back to enjoying my dishwasher and central air.
P.S. Gene looked absolutely hysterical in his squirrel-seeking attire. He ran away when I brought out the camera, though. Damn.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment