Rodent Redaction

I seem to be having a rodent problem. 

Example #1: Several months ago, while cleaning a bedroom where a guest had just slept, I lifted the knit blanket from the chair in the corner and I jumped. Stuck to the bottom of the blanket, seemingly sleeping serenely, was a petrified baby squirrel. Yes, I was appropriately mortified. And no, I don’t know how it got there or why I didn’t smell its putrid, decaying frame until I picked up the throw. Evidence below:

Example #2: I had decided to clean my screened porch because spring weather had arrived. I was hoping to sit on the patio furniture and drink my coffee on the upcoming cool mornings. Again, this incident involves a blanket. And again, I was lifting the blanket off the couch when I screamed and started. Under the red, tapestry-like throw, I found a mouse scurrying away with five babies attached to her bottom. Either she was birthing them or nursing them. Judging by the size of all the babies, I decided they were nursing. She was a slow scurry-er with the attached babies, so I got to view her actions for several minutes. In her panic, a few babies detached from her bottom and were laying in the corner of the couch. She tried to grab one of them in her mouth and found another hiding place for them under a pillow. By this time, I was freaking out and had no idea how to move this little family without mouses climbing up my arms. I ran to get the kitchen broom, pushed the pillow away with the broom, and was finally able to prod her onto the floor and out the porch door. In her surprised haste, she dropped several of her babies on her way down the stairs. I gathered up the dropped furless babies carefully in a dustpan and put them on the grass below the stairs. They were making pitiful squeaking sounds. Then I went back into my porch and found the perfectly round hole in one of the screens where mama mouse had chewed through so she could nest in a blanket that lay upon my patio furniture. I didn’t have time to fix the hole in the screen, but I placed a mouse trap just below it on the windowsill and yelled down to mama mouse, “I saved you and your babies but now you must stay out of my porch.” Apparently, mama mouse did not understand English and apparently, she thought some of her babies were still on my couch because she made her way through the hole, stepped onto the mousetrap, and got caught by her head. RIP mm. See very fuzzy screen shots from video as evidence below:

Also, I am not a bad housekeeper.

                       

Example #3: As I was drinking coffee on my now rodent-free porch this morning, I glanced out the screen door and saw this:

This was not a pleasant sight first thing in the morning, especially with my recent rodent problems. I wasn’t sure who had pooped on my porch stairs, but I knew whoever it was had been eating lots and lots of seeds. I proceeded to finish my coffee, then go to the garage and gather up a trowel. I used the trowel to scoop the poop and plop it onto the grass below. As I walked outdoors, I noticed that the pooper had also visited the nearby swing set and decided to leave a seedy deposit on the lofted playhouse. No one wants a poopy playhouse, so I also removed the poop via trowel and threw it out into the yard. After I had performed all this stinky seedy scat removal, I googled “dark brown seedy rodent poop” and discovered that a raccoon was the most likely culprit. I also discovered that raccoon poop is VERY TOXIC because it often contains Baylisascaris worms and, according to the CDC, I was supposed to be VERY CAREFUL when removing it. These are the directions listed for clean-up. I have placed a check mark after the ones I followed:

• Wear disposable gloves.

• Wear a N95-rated respirator. 

• Avoid stirring up dust and debris.

• Wear rubber boots that can be scrubbed or cover your shoes with disposable booties that can be thrown away.

• Feces and material contaminated with raccoon feces should be removed and burned, buried, or sent to a landfill.

• Treat feces-soiled decks, patios, and other surfaces with boiling water or a propane torch. ✔                

I read these precautions AFTER I, gloveless, maskless, and bootless, had quickly discarded the poop. I did not burn, bury, or send the poop to a landfill. I threw the poop in the yard where my dog and my grandchildren play. 

Reading further, I learned “Raccoon droppings are dangerous because many contain tiny roundworm eggs that can infect humans and cause serious illness if accidentally swallowed or inhaled. Although these infections are rare, they can lead to irreversible brain, heart, and sometimes eye damage and death.” Because I am a worst-case scenario kind of person, I was certain that I had inadvertently ingested Baylisascaris larvae and that I would die within the month. Wanting to spare my husband (who would mow over the poop and also ingest the larvae), I quickly went inside (and after spitting a lot and gargling with salt water to kill any worms in my mouth), put the kettle to boil and proceeded to pour boiling water on the scattered poop pieces and upon any stairway surface the poop had touched. I chose the boiling water method because I did not desire to burn up my house, yard, or swing set. After pouring all the water out on the feces pieces, I boiled another pot and poured it on the poop spot on the swing set loft. Then I carefully looked in the river rock under the loft because I was sure that my granddaughter would play in those pebbles, pick up the poop, eat it, and become disabled for life. And it would be my--and the absent raccoons--fault. So, excuse me now as I contemplate my recent rogue rodents and the uncertain fate of myself, my husband, my current and future grandchildren. 

Finally, as with all experiences, I have gained a few droppings of insight, so I will leave you with some solid advice: Check your blankets carefully before you entertain guests, use wisdom when choosing to assist a mother mouse, and never ever invite a raccoon to share your bathroom.