a chipmunk caper

by grace on October 25, 2017

on sunday kevin and i were sitting on the couch and he heard a ruckus, thinking it must be chester picking on winnie.  but that wasn’t it; winnie was with us.  he thought it could be lester and chester fighting, but no – it was les paul, scurrying away with a chipmunk in his mouth.  again.

but les paused a minute and dropped the little guy, who immediately shot into the music room, the little room between the living room and the bedroom.  oh boy.

i couldn’t help kevin try to rescue the chipmunk because i had to leave, so kevin closed the doors and sealed off the room.  when i returned a few hours later kevin told me that he’d kept going in and checking on the chipmunk, who had hunkered down behind the piano and seemed pretty content to stay there.

we then tried to corral him.  never an easy thing, especially now because the room is more cluttered than usual, with picture frames and all kinds of debris around.  we got a yardstick and tried to get him to head towards a catch-and-release mousetrap that amy and jim lent us, but instead, the little guy zoomed over and hid under the victrola, then scurried under the dresser, and on an on, madly dashing hither and yon.  at one point i looked for him and he was suddenly on top of the table, and then lept down to the floor.

oh boy.

this went on for a while, but we finally gave up for the evening.  we know this had happened before and somehow we’d managed to capture him, but we couldn’t remember how we’d done it.

jim suggested cutting a hole on the edge of box, putting in some bird seed, and putting it on the floor so the chipmunk might go inside and eat and feel safe inside the box.  so we tried that.

as we sat on the couch watching TV, we head scrabbling on the door from the music room and assumed it was one of the cats, desperate to get in and have a snack.  but when we looked, there was no cat – it was the chipmunk, furiously pounding on the door trying to get out!

we finally went to bed and during the night i woke to hear him again beating on the door.  silly chipmunk.

the next morning i had to go to work and we resolved that somehow we’d get him when i came back.  but in the short time i was gone, kevin somehow managed to get him.  i’m still not clear how it went down, only that he angled the piano somehow and put a poster tube at one end and wasn’t sure where the chipmunk was, but then the tube moved just a little bit and kevin realized he’d gone inside.  he quickly covered the end and carried him over to the ravine.

whew.  at least one chipmunk has been saved this year. i won’t tell you how many of them didn’t make it out alive from the strong and mighty jaws of our fuzzy, sweet, chimpunk-killer.

it’s always something.

ok then,

mrs. wednesday hughes.



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