Squirrel Warfare

Warning -- the following post may not be suitable for younger and more sensitive readers -- not to mention the squeamish, the faint of heart, or members of PETA.

We have an over-abundance of squirrels in the vicinity of our house and garden. There is a small office building right across the alley that has a large garbage dumpster. Squirrels hang out there, get plenty to eat, and nest in the 2 trees at the back of my house. There are many, many, many, way too many squirrels living within a few feet of my garden. Dan and I are getting ever more defensive and bloodthirsty on behalf of our slowly-ripening tomatoes. Squirrels, heed my warning and stay away if you know what's good for you.

The tomatoes have not liked our cool summer, and are turning red very, very s-l-o-w-l-y. As we are downtown at work all day, the squirrels have a field day with my Earthboxes. They watch from the trees until they see us leave for the train, and then they scamper down the fence and snatch the only ripening tomatoes off the vine. Then -- and this is the worst part -- they take ONE BITE and leave the tomatoes on the fence. It's heartbreaking! My hate for those little furry bastards burns with the heat of a thousand suns! This is war!!!

As my first line of defense, I tried cayenne pepper in order to make my tomatoes unpleasant to their little furry noses. Dan's mom, Ann, got us a huge plastic jar of it at her neighborhood fruit market, and I've been liberally sprinkling the cayenne on the black plastic mulch of the Earthboxes and also a little on the tomatoes. It seems to help a bit, and I was able to pick a few puny orange tomatoes before the squirrels got 'em. A paltry victory.

Anyway, like I said, we are growing increasingly bloodthirsty. I know I will probably shock and dismay a few folks, but here goes. We have been using our Have-a-Heart trap (which is quite ironic), and when we trap a squirrel we drown it in a trash can full of water. There, I said it! When I say "we" do this, I am speaking quite loosely. Ok, I'm lying through my teeth. Dan, of course, does all the trapping, drowning and disposing. I hide in the house, with my fingers in my ears, going "la la la la la", pretending that he is not out in the backyard murdering the local fauna right before my neighbors' eyes. We have helped 3 squirrels pass into the great beyond this week, but I don't think it will do anything toward putting a dent in our over-abundant squirrel population. We'd probably have to trap and drown 10 squirrels a day to make a noticeable difference.

However, we are discontinuing our squirrel executions. We just don't have the heart for it any more, not after what happened this morning. It was around 7 a.m., and Dan went to check the trap. There was a squirrel in the trap, and he looked mighty nervous, as well he should. Dan fetched the garbage can from the alley and filled it with water from the hose. I was, of course, hiding in the kitchen, being lots of help. All of a sudden I heard Dan yell, and I looked out the back porch window to see him slamming the plastic garbage can's hinged lid down on the squirrel, who had somehow gotten out of the trap while it was in the water and had climbed up the inside of the garbage can, attempting to make a break for it. It was now half in and half out of the can, squirming mightily. Dan was holding the lid down on the squirrel, and yelling for something to whack it with. I ran to give him the garden spade, purposely looking away from the squirrel. He took the spade and told me to hold the garbage can lid tightly down on the squirrel while he clunked it on the head. I did NOT like this idea one bit, but what could I do. I got behind the garbage can, as far away from the squirrel as I could get. Twisting my head away, and with my eyes tightly shut, I pushed down on the top of the lid while Dan swung the shovel. WHAM! I immediately felt a bit of something hit the side of my head, and I screamed bloody murder as I ran a few quick circles around the yard. As it turns out, it was only dried dirt that had been caked on my garden spade, not flying bits of squirrel. It took about a half hour before my heart rate returned to normal.

In the meantime, Dan was calmly making sure that the squirrel was out of its misery, bagging it up and disposing of it in another of our garbage cans. After this very harrowing experience -- admittedly much more harrowing for the squirrel -- we are putting the trap away and giving up the fight. To any squirrels that may be reading this, go ahead and steal my tomatoes. Mock me from your leafy nests. After all, I can get plenty of nice, ripe tomatoes from the farmer's market, with a lot less violence.