My office space faces the front of the house — a townhouse, attached, facing north, the shade, and the open sewer on an alphabet street on Capitol Hill. I have heard them in the wall.
A lot of construction recently in the neighborhood. Holes and then the animals themselves appear on the ground beside the front path. It's a warren underneath the path. I put in smoke bombs, approved for use everywhere in the United States for a long list of animal varmints, including "skunks," except — the insert says — in Arkansas, where "skunks" are really another sort of animal protected by the Arkansas wildlife department.
They scampered across behind my wall, very delayed reaction. I have poison in closed trays, I have traps . . . but they set them off and then eat the peanut butter. The stoop smells freshly of ammonia, their urine, then I wash it away with bleach and water. I smell the bleach from my desk, facing the inset basement window, my eyes below street level, directly facing a rat highway connected to the main water intake.
They live near there. They eat elsewhere, they are careful with poison and traps. I will kill them with traps baited with cotton and vanilla nailed to a board, lowered into place.
I'll deliver an update. Get my Hefty trash bag ready.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment