squirrels in the storage shed
the journal of Michael Werneburg
twenty-seven years and one million words
I was in the storage shed, and spotted some debris atop a box on the top shelf. Leaves and other clutter. Bits of torn paper? What?
I grabbed a twig in wonder, and something came to life in the box. I didn't see it, but it ran the length of the shelf, crossed the back of the shelf along the back wall, and scrambled out of there. A squirrel.
It had made a nest. Chewing up the box, bringing in all sorts of leaves and junk, and chewing through some boxes of slides in the process.
And then it had given birth.
In fleeing the shed, it had left two (or possibly three) babies in the nest in the box on the top shelf of our shed.
I got the kids out of the way, and took the box down. As I gingerly removed the undestroyed boxes of slides, the (perhaps month old?) babies started mewling and kicking around a bit.
With my things rescued, I placed the ravaged box in the bike shed, and placed a bag of packing paper, which had also been ripped open and turned into so much confetti, on top of it.
Then we got back to our purpose: packing up all of the moving materials that had sat up on that shelf for the past five and a half years, so we could take them to grandma's place to help with her move.
Deciding that this was not something we could bear again, I went and bought some slender nails with wide brims, and replaced the bit of siding that had fallen off the underside of the overhanging bit of roof. It was through the spaces between the top of the wall and the underside of the roof that the critter(s) had been gaining entrance, and it would end today.
That done, we left town for grandma's. Godspeed little baby squirrels!