Too Good
This story is just too good.
Too good, so I HAVE to share it.
Last night my husband came home late from work, kinda unusual, but expected since he is working on something time sensitive at work. So it was about 10 pm when he showed up. When he had left for work, he opened up the people door on the garage so Charlie the garage cat could go outside because it was going to be in the 40's, and Charlie should get some fresh air. This happens often, and Charlie doesn't go far, comes when you call, real great cat, anyway.....
When hubby went in there to check Charlies food situation, he spotted a pink nose coming out of Charlies box. Charlie has a box he sleeps in when it is really cold that has an old seat cushion, and some other fabric in it, so it is a cozy little nest for him. Charlie wasn't the one in the box. Charlie was eating his food, about 6 inches from the box entrance. Upon further inspection, husband sees that the critter in the box is either a giant rat, or a opossum, and comes into the house asking for the giant ass leather mittens. Any time he asks for the "giant ass leather mittens" means some sort of animal control. Every time. Now, regular folks would probably just call animal control, and have someone come out. No, no, we can take care of this. So I wouldn't let him go back out there without me and my t-ball bat, which he always gets a chuckle out of.
So the opossum is still hiding in Charlies box when we get out there, and since I am the country kid, and he is the city kid, I determine that it is a opossum indeed, not a giant rat. So opened up the top of the box enough to get the kid size shovel in there, trying to "encourage" the animal into the garbage can waiting for him at the exit hole of the box. Opossum did not want to go, but finally did after much "encouragement" with the shovel. But since the box is up off the ground a couple of inches, he went in the can, and then crawled under the box and behind an engine in the corner. A slick move that we did not anticipate. So I sent hubby back there with my bat. He goes back there, and there is just no room to get a good swing.
"Go get the .22."
"You are not shooting a gun in the garage. We aren't getting a Darwin award right before Christmas."
"Well what the hell am I supposed to do here? And it's not dangerous, I can put the barrel right on it, I'm not going to be shooting all willy-nilly. Go get the .22."
"The neighbors are going to call the police, seeing me walk out to the garage with a rifle, and then hearing shots. They are going to think I'm killing you. You can't shoot within city limits anyway."
"Seriously, go get the gun. It won't be that loud. Just go do it."
"Fine, but I will not be in the garage when you shoot, because I don't want to get hit by a ricochet. I don't want to watch you get hit either. You are dumb."
"OK fine. Go get the gun now."
*I stomp outside* put Charlie in the porch so he doesn't get involved in this fiasco. Get gun and ammo. *stomp back to garage*
"Here"
"You didn't bring ammo, did you?
"Yes, I brought ammo, what do you think I am? Hey, I'm not the one that's gonna shoot that in a building. That would be you, bright one"
"*rolls eyes* give me three."
"WHAT?!? You don't need three!!"
"oh, for Petes sake, just give me three."
"Fine. If it will make you feel better. You won't need them, point blank like that, but whatever"
Now I went outside. Hear something that sounded like he dropped a cardboard box. Opened door and asked if that did the trick.
"Uhhh....no"
Shut door. Hear another box sound, open door again. "Are you done yet?"
"Dude, this thing is making a big frickin' mess back here, no, he's not done yet."
Shut door. Hear sound. Open door. "Seriously, did that do it?"
"Yeah, I think so. That made a mess."
So, there went the opossum. Then we were discussing what to do with the body. He took it to work with him. You know, to show the guys.
Is that the right way to deal with varmints in a garage? Probably not. Did we get the situation resolved quicker than animal control could have? Yes. Was it fun? Oh, you're darn right!!!
Too good, so I HAVE to share it.
Last night my husband came home late from work, kinda unusual, but expected since he is working on something time sensitive at work. So it was about 10 pm when he showed up. When he had left for work, he opened up the people door on the garage so Charlie the garage cat could go outside because it was going to be in the 40's, and Charlie should get some fresh air. This happens often, and Charlie doesn't go far, comes when you call, real great cat, anyway.....
When hubby went in there to check Charlies food situation, he spotted a pink nose coming out of Charlies box. Charlie has a box he sleeps in when it is really cold that has an old seat cushion, and some other fabric in it, so it is a cozy little nest for him. Charlie wasn't the one in the box. Charlie was eating his food, about 6 inches from the box entrance. Upon further inspection, husband sees that the critter in the box is either a giant rat, or a opossum, and comes into the house asking for the giant ass leather mittens. Any time he asks for the "giant ass leather mittens" means some sort of animal control. Every time. Now, regular folks would probably just call animal control, and have someone come out. No, no, we can take care of this. So I wouldn't let him go back out there without me and my t-ball bat, which he always gets a chuckle out of.
So the opossum is still hiding in Charlies box when we get out there, and since I am the country kid, and he is the city kid, I determine that it is a opossum indeed, not a giant rat. So opened up the top of the box enough to get the kid size shovel in there, trying to "encourage" the animal into the garbage can waiting for him at the exit hole of the box. Opossum did not want to go, but finally did after much "encouragement" with the shovel. But since the box is up off the ground a couple of inches, he went in the can, and then crawled under the box and behind an engine in the corner. A slick move that we did not anticipate. So I sent hubby back there with my bat. He goes back there, and there is just no room to get a good swing.
"Go get the .22."
"You are not shooting a gun in the garage. We aren't getting a Darwin award right before Christmas."
"Well what the hell am I supposed to do here? And it's not dangerous, I can put the barrel right on it, I'm not going to be shooting all willy-nilly. Go get the .22."
"The neighbors are going to call the police, seeing me walk out to the garage with a rifle, and then hearing shots. They are going to think I'm killing you. You can't shoot within city limits anyway."
"Seriously, go get the gun. It won't be that loud. Just go do it."
"Fine, but I will not be in the garage when you shoot, because I don't want to get hit by a ricochet. I don't want to watch you get hit either. You are dumb."
"OK fine. Go get the gun now."
*I stomp outside* put Charlie in the porch so he doesn't get involved in this fiasco. Get gun and ammo. *stomp back to garage*
"Here"
"You didn't bring ammo, did you?
"Yes, I brought ammo, what do you think I am? Hey, I'm not the one that's gonna shoot that in a building. That would be you, bright one"
"*rolls eyes* give me three."
"WHAT?!? You don't need three!!"
"oh, for Petes sake, just give me three."
"Fine. If it will make you feel better. You won't need them, point blank like that, but whatever"
Now I went outside. Hear something that sounded like he dropped a cardboard box. Opened door and asked if that did the trick.
"Uhhh....no"
Shut door. Hear another box sound, open door again. "Are you done yet?"
"Dude, this thing is making a big frickin' mess back here, no, he's not done yet."
Shut door. Hear sound. Open door. "Seriously, did that do it?"
"Yeah, I think so. That made a mess."
So, there went the opossum. Then we were discussing what to do with the body. He took it to work with him. You know, to show the guys.
Is that the right way to deal with varmints in a garage? Probably not. Did we get the situation resolved quicker than animal control could have? Yes. Was it fun? Oh, you're darn right!!!