Sunday, March 9, 2008

Trapper Ron

Ron Martin loves his yard. He loves growing flowers. He loves mowing the yard, sometimes twice in one session (so he can get a lovely pattern). He loves feeding and watching the birds. The one thing he doesn't love is squirrels. I'm not sure if his disdain for the squirrels is as high as his disdain for the walnuts, but it's pretty unpleasant no matter the ranking.

A couple of weeks ago a colleague at work told him about these wicked cool squirrel traps available at Tractor Supply. So early on Saturday morning (I'm sure it was before dawn) Ron trekked out to the Tractor Supply in Olathe and purchased two traps. Then the fun began. He fashioned "bait" by cutting the necks off two aluminum beer cans that look like bottles (?) and swabbing peanut butter around the top. Then he set the traps and sprinkled a few sunflower seeds around the spring-loaded mechanism that snaps the door shut.

We've caught 21 squirrels to date. Of course, we had a lengthy discussion on what to do with them once they were apprehended. I offered to design some trendy orange coveralls with MSCF (Martin Squirrel Correctional Facility) embroidered above the front pocket and Ron offered to drown them. "Twenty seconds and it's done." Because my eyesight ain't what it used to be and because I told Ron that assassinating squirrels is how Jeffrey Dahmer (AND Dexter) started out, we agreed that we'd adopt a catch-release method. So, we've been taking trips to nearby parks and wooded areas and letting the little critters go. It's hysterical watching them FLY from the cage once the door is open. I swear they're halfway back home by the time we drive away. Then I guess the joke would be on us. Ha. Not funny.

2 comments:

marybinashland said...

I think it would be quite beneficial to come up with some type of tagging system so that you could track the little fellas and be able to tell if they find their way home. Or imagine, if you will, that you are on vacation, hundreds of miles away and as you are sitting for a moment a squirrel scanters by just as the sun hits it's little ankle bracelet and there, right in front of you is Squirrel Number 232!!

jdmartin said...

We totally thought about hitting them with a shot of flourescent orange spray paint . . .but in the end I think we'd be humiliated if one found its way back here . . . and, of course, then I'd start obessing about the retaliation that could ensue. I'm getting nauseous right now thinking about waking up one night to an acrobatic tower of squirrels by my bedside, with all their tiny, sharp teeth bared and little bits of saliva running down their hairy chins . . . .sssssssshhhhhhhuuuuddder!