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Wednesday, May 8, 2013

Infestation

Home ownership blows.  Well, I suppose it doesn't blow, but it can be the source of quite a bit of misery.  Right now, the windows need washing, the gutters need cleaning and, in some cases, reattached to the house, the garage door needs to be repainted and sealed, I think our backyard may be on a sinkhole, our gas lights don't work at the front of the house, there is a mystery leak in the kitchen ceiling, some trees were planted too close to the bedroom windows so they scrape against them while I'm trying to sleep... it's just one thing after another.  And when you are the owner, you are the fixer.  Or, at least, the caller who summons the fixer(s). 

All of those issues are vexing certainly.  But the thing that is the most annoying at the moment is the fact that my home seems to have become a refuge for outdoor critters of all ilk.  It started last fall - our screened porch seemed to become a gathering spot for wasps.  We were out there one night with some friends when all of a sudden, one stung Mike on his stomach and then flew off somewhere to die.  I was glad he (the wasp) died, of course, but there were about 20 more that we noticed were also there, trying to decide whose stomach to attack next.

We had hoped that the issue would resolve itself once the cooler temperatures came, but now it is spring, and it is happening again.  There is no visible nest inside the porch, and yet they are there.  Worse, they are also congregating at the front of my house by the front door, so my five year old is scared to death to go outside.  But it doesn't end there.  They sometimes sneak in when I open and close the garage door.  So Meg is actually afraid to go outside OR into the garage.  It is a production with tears and fit-throwing every time we have somewhere to go.  Not to mention that on the rare occasion it is actually warm and sunny at the same time, I'd like for us to go outside and play.  Can't do that with gigantic red wasps flying around.  Meg has made that clear.

We had a local pest control man out recently to get rid of the wasps which he did, thankfully.  But that's not all he found at the ol' McCallie house.  It seems we have a few other things going on.  You know it's bad when a man who does this for a living says with a hint of amazement in his voice, "Wow!  What else can we find here?!"  While he inspected the parameters of our house and yard, he noted the following things:

For starters, it seems we have been providing shelter to a bat for several months now.  Somehow he (or she - how do you tell?  I'm not getting close enough to inspect.) has found about a 1/8 inch opening between the trim and the side of our house by our downstairs porch.  I had noticed some dark droppings back there a while ago, but just figured it was from the bird that has been nesting on top of our outdoor speaker (which is another problem and yet another thing we must get rid of, but I digress). The thing about the droppings was that there wasn't the typical white substance that you usually see all over your car windshield.  I just assumed the bird was being polite by not being too messy back there as it lay atop our speaker.  But as soon as the pest guy saw the droppings, he knew they belonged to a bat.  I have no idea how it managed to wedge itself in such a tiny space but sure enough, when he shone his flashlight on it, I saw it's nasty little upside down wings expand a little from the light. 

When I saw that, I began scrolling through the rolodex in my mind to see who we knew who might be a realtor as I had every intention of moving.  The pest man explained how I was to get rid of the bat: Wait until nighttime and watch until he flies out to feed (egads!) and seal the space where he has been entering to sleep while he's gone (my gawd, what if he comes back early???).  Okay, alright.  Let me make sure I understand this.  I am to stand guard at his little cave and watch for him to fly out?  What if he flies over to me and mistakes me for his supper?  He could take one look at my hair and assume it's a bird's nest, after all.   Do bats eat birds?  Well, it turns out they eat dirt dobbers which, you won't be surprised to learn, have taken up residence at the same porch as the bat.  I've counted 27 different dirt tunnels they've built back there.  This does not include the ones they have erected at the front of my house.

How does all of this happen?  Why are they choosing my house?  Does one little dobber come dobbing along and see a wall they like and then go tell their friends about it?

Mornin', Earl.  I found a wall attached to a nice house in a neighborhood inside the Chattanooga city limits.  Cul-de-sac.  Quiet neighbors.  Purty view of the mountains.  The schools aren't that great, but there are plenty of private schools close by.  You should check it out.  They got 'em two Waffle Houses and a Walmart real close.

So, they're there and now there's a bat there.  And, from what I have since learned, it's almost never just one bat.  Who knows how many squatters we have.  And right next to his little crevice, is the aforementioned bird nesting on my speaker.  A few feet away is a plastic snake whose presence there was to deter the birds from coming.  He's totally fired.  The bird who is nesting?  Yeah, he (she?) had five babies. Five.  There is so much poop on my back porch that the stone is no longer visible.  The only thing that is visible - besides the layers and layers of bird s*#t - is a four foot weed sprouting proudly out of a clay pot that is slowly disintegrating.  And when it's time for each of these five baby birds to build a nest, where do you think they'll go?

Now, I'm not surprised that we have birds.  You see, to the birds, I am The Chosen One.  I think word must have gotten out that I went to great lengths to save what turned out to be a pigeon when he appeared on my door step a few years ago.  Homeless; disheveled.  I made sure he'd have a better life.  And now they flock (if you'll pardon the pun) to me. I also came to the rescue of another bird; a blue bird of some sort; a few weeks ago.  Meg was in the backyard on the trampoline and I kept hearing this scraping and scratching sound.  I just assumed it was the holly trees that are too close to the house and always scratch across my windows, but as I began to pay more attention, it dawned on me that the noise would stop and start.  It would be kind of frenetic for a minute and then it would subside.  I wasn't sure what was going on, so I began to follow the clawing noise I was hearing.  Sure enough, it seemed to be coming from the bottom of one of my gutters.  When I knocked on it, the maniacal scratching started up again.  I realized that it was a bird who had somehow fallen down the gutter and would surely die there if I couldn't free him.

So, I went into the wasp-infested garage and found a screwdriver that I could use to remove the bottom part of the gutter to free him (or her?  Who can tell?).  I successfully loosened and removed the bottom part of the gutter but then... nothing.  He didn't come out.  I wondered if he was somehow injured from scratching a clawing against the gutter for so long.  I had flashes of the Seinfeld episode where George inadvertently saves a squirrel and then the doctors have to use "tiny instruments" to save him.  Once they do save him, he is released into George's care.  (I, just so we're clear, was not about to take in a crippled bird.  No mouth-to-beak gonna happen here.)  I put the end of the screwdriver up to try and shake him loose and was met with a wall of debris that had collected at the bottom that was preventing him from getting out.  So, I began gently scraping away so that it, and my new little feathered friend, would fall out.  They didn't.  I had to get more aggressive in digging due to the amount of junk that had collected there.  Finally, with one last, fateful scrape, the remaining leaves fell out and out came the bird, like a bat out of ...well, I guess, my house.  When the bird whizzed past me, it scared me to death even though I knew it would eventually do just that.  I let out a panicked scream that terrified Meg.  And, you guessed it, now she doesn't want to go in the backyard.  I feel like by the time we discover just how many critters and insects we have around our house, Meg will pretty much have confined herself to a small closet under the stairs.

The bird hopped off looking dizzy and confused, but grateful to be alive and out in the world once again.  I think he must have relayed his terrifying ordeal and the brave, kindly woman who came to his rescue to his friends because now we have another one who is trying everything he can to get inside my home.  I was downstairs in the basement which backs up to the backyard where this daring rescue took place and kept hearing a banging sound.  I walked over to the window, and there was a bird just flying up and down at the window and banging his feet (they're not "feet" per se, but what the hell are they?) against it.  He flew off once he saw me.  I guess I startled him.  But he's there all the time.  Banging away.  There are three windows down there and they all have little tiny scrape marks (footprints?) all over them from where he's trying to get in.  Maybe he's seen the bat and is trying to escape his wrath.  But I think it's more likely he is need of a kidney transplant and believes I will help him as I have so selflessly helped his brethren.  He knows who I am.  I am The Chosen One.  He's heard the stories.  And he wants my kidney.

But it's not all bats and birds and wasps and dirt dobbers.  We have a worm infestation on our cedar trees in the front of the house.  I'd noticed several small cocoons that were dangling from my front gutters so I asked the pest man if he knew what they were.  Why yes, he did.  The are a worm who basically eats and destroys cedar trees.  He went over to the tree and pulled some of the branches to back to reveal about 40 of the same cocoons already attached to the limbs.  He told me I'd want to do something about them if I didn't want to lose my tree.  It made a lot of sense what he was saying.  I was contemplating it as I glanced over and saw the two gaping holes in front of my house where two other cedar trees had been before they had died a mysterious death.  He told me that the only way to get rid of them is to exterminate when they come out of their cocoon which, apparently, is a very short window of time. 

What is it with all of these things? Why can't we have something easy like roaches or something?  Oh wait.  We do.  We have the kind who leave their crispy, crunchy sacks in my doorjamb and hatch a bunch of 'em at at time.  Those are in the garage.  Near the wasps.  Not far from the termites.  Yep.  Termites.  In my garage.  That's it.  We're moving.  Except, we now can't sell a house with termites.  The house is five years old.  It was treated for termites when it was built.  WHY DO WE HAVE TERMITES?  We don't have many, thankfully, and they likely haven't been there to cause any kind of damage.  But do you know how expensive it is to treat your house for termites?  And if you know you have some, you have to treat the whole house and yard so you make sure that you kill those you may not be aware of because you certainly can't ignore them.  Pest man was very thorough and said that it looked to him that they were only present in the garage.  BUT STILL!!! 

For those of you keeping score we have termites, bats, birds, worms, roaches, wasps and dirt dobbers.  Plus, I've got a crazy bird trying to extract my organs and a child who is currently hiding under the ottoman.  Also, I'm seeing familiar looking droppings on my front porch.  Under the trim.  Which appears to have just enough room for a bat to squeeze in.  UGH.