Mighty hunter cats

I just heard from a friend who was up in the wee hours, monitoring her cat who was chasing a rat around the living room.  It sounded like a children's rhyme:  there once was a lady who watched a cat who chased a rat who hid under a hat which sat on the mat....

It also reminded me of a late night I spent with Bunji, my beloved tuxedo cat who died about 8 years ago (right before Simone came into my life.)  I had been lying on the low maroon corduroy couch, reading by the light of a table lamp.  The lamp was set on an old locked trunk which my cousin found many years before and lugged into the house to serve as an end table.  We never found out what was in it:  it was brass-cornered with teal-green metal sides.  The trunk was a little shorter in length than the couch, and was lined up with the couch's front edge, thus leaving a little gap by the wall.

This gap is important to the story.

Around 10 pm I got up, turned off the light and began to move towards the stairs.  Then my brain processed what my eyes had seen as I looked down at the light:  a round furry grey-brown object, wedged between the trunk and the wall.  Reluctantly, I moved back to the lamp and turned it on.  There, motionless, nose in the corner, was a medium-sized squirrel.  I thought back a few nights, when I had noticed Bunji crouched at the far edge of the couch, which was too low for him to get under, nose and eyes to the space between couch and floor.  I thought, great, he brought the squirrel into the house, it went to ground under the couch and died in the corner.

Bunji was actually in the room with me, and Yo-cat was upstairs.  I pulled out the trunk to get at the corpse, which then leapt into life, dashing past me across the room, to settle beneath the couch over there.  Bunji chased after it and began scrabbling under the couch (this couch is further off the ground).  I quit gasping for air and grabbed him, shutting him into the music room.

Then I stood and pondered the situation.

Here's the layout:  low maroon couch against the north wall of the living room.  Large opening, approximately 8 ft wide, into the foyer. Music room to the west of the foyer. Open stairwell as the north wall of the foyer, with doorway on the east side of that wall, at the bottom of the stairs, leading into kitchen.  Pantry on the west side of the kitchen, with a bathroom/darkroom opening to the north.  Water heater closet in the bathroom.  Back in the living room, another couch (which the squirrel is under) along the south wall.  Doorway to outside porch on the east wall, close to the entry into the foyer.  The maroon couch has a long narrow back that never got attached:  it's propped against the wall, on top of the couch proper.

I decided that my best course of  action was to keep Bunji shut up in the music room, shut Yo-cat into the upstairs bedroom, and try to herd the squirrel out the front door.  I positioned the detachable couch back along the opening into the foyer, propped open the front door, and took a broom.  One swipe under the couch and the squirrel shot out, running straight towards the barrier which he hit full tilt, vaulting it in one smooth acrobatic motion, disappearing towards the kitchen.

Following the squirrel, broom in hand, I observed him leaping from island to counter top, and I realized:  there is no way to herd a squirrel.  I called B, who said, "what do you think I can do?"  She suggested a live trap.  I dithered, and she got in her car and came over with some black sunflower seeds to help lure the squirrel out.  When she arrived, the squirrel was nowhere to be seen.  We eventually realized he'd gone into the bathroom, and thence into the walls, via the (sadly) open door to the water closet.  B commiserated with me, left the seed, and went home to her well-earned rest.  I shut the door to the bathroom, freed the cats, and went to bed (but not to rest:  I had a SQUIRREL in my house!)

Next day I called the live trap folks.  When they discovered that my house was over 100 years old and the squirrel had access to the walls, they informed me that I was doomed:  the squirrel would die in the walls and smell up the house and there wasn't a thing I could do about it.  But I went over, got a trap (at $20 an hour), baited it, and returned to the bathroom.  As I placed the trap on the floor, I looked up at the darkroom shelf and saw two beady eyes peering out from amongst the beakers of chemicals.

Half an hour later, I heard the trap gate slam shut.   I brought it outside, opened the gate, and told the squirrel to run free and warn his friends to stay away from this house of horror.  A few minutes later, I went back.  Squirrel was gone, story was over.