Sunday, March 17, 2013

I could have sworn I drew a line somewhere...

As you all have probably guessed, I really like animals.  We have sheep, and rabbits, and turkeys, and chickens.  We're discussing getting some ducks, as well.  And maybe a couple of geese while we're at it, since once you've starting collecting feathered folk, where do you stop?
And that's just the outdoor critters.  Inside, I have a Siamese Beta fish and Madman has a pet rat.  We used to have a little cat, my beloved Ursula, whom we haven't replaced.  (Though we certainly miss her - especially with the mouse population explosion we've experienced this year.  Madman and his mousetraps just can't keep up.)
Just so we're clear, with certain exceptions (like the occasional house chicken) (and hatchlings) (oh, and the baby bunnies) (hmm...), outside critters are supposed to stay outside, and inside critters stay inside.  The sheep don't get to come in and play Katamari Damacy on the Playstation, the turkeys don't get to play Freecell while eating pretzels.  Outside, outside; inside, inside.

So okay.

This afternoon I was in the bathroom, sitting you-can-guess-where, minding my own business, when I heard a skitter of little feet on tile.  I looked over just in time to see a little white ferret-y thing with a black-tipped tail dash across the bathroom floor and jump through the access hatch on the side of our whirlpool tub.
"Hey!"  I said, no slouch at the quick witticism. 

It's an ermine.

Which is a weasel.

There's a weasel in my house.  A weasel.  In my house.






Now, granted, he's a cute little weasel.  Little button eyes and nose.  Inquisitive little face.

There's still a weasel in my house.

We're guessing that he got in by squeezing through one of the holes where the plumbing pipes go through the floor.  The access hatch on the tub is open because the door came loose a while back and we haven't gotten around to fixing it.  (There are always so many other things to do - like fixing sheep fence and catching errant poultry, for instance - that it's a job that has lingered near the bottom of the To Do list.)   Hopefully, that was his way in, and he's gone back out.
Because the room he came running out of when I saw him was our bedroom.  I'm trying not to think of little creepy weasels under the bed.  Or on the bed.  At night.  Because they're nocturnal.  And I'm not.

I think fixing that access hatch is going to get moved up on the To Do list.





10 comments:

  1. It could only happen to you! You have more creature adventures than anyone I know.

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  2. Only you, Gayle! Too funny! Of course, it's only funny because it's not in MY house.

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  3. At least it wasn't in your chicken coop? this time?

    Seriously, I thought weasels were more scared of humans than that!!

    But I can tell you (from my parents' less-awesome weasel encounter) that they can get through any hole the size of a quarter. It's kinda like how mice can get through pencil sized holes. Little rodenty-things apparently have squishy skulls...

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  4. Look on the bright side: Mr. Ermine/Weasel should take care of your mouse problem right quick.

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  5. Could have been way worse. Could have been a skunk, a raccoon, a porcupine, or any number of far less welcoming beasts.

    Also, I think if you continue to call it an Ermine, and not a Weasel, you should be in good shape. Plus, you could name it Ernest. Or Ermie. How could you get rid of Ermie? He's part of your family already. To me, anyway.

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  6. Oh honey, I am so sorry... and thank you. I am no longer thinking how having a dead lizard under the fridge is the worse vermin related thing ever. o.O

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  7. Yes, only to you. Jeez. Cute, but maybe not there. You need some foam insulation in some of those cracks that a weasel can squeeze through.

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  8. Obviously the ermine will eat the mice, which is good. But then you'll have an ermine problem so you'll need to get like maybe a falcon to eat the ermines. But your house will quickly fill with falcon and that's no good so you'll need to get a hawk to take care of the falcon problem. But I'm pretty sure that's where it would end.

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  9. Wow! (And what a time to see a new visitor--hee).

    I found a dead baby mouse in the middle of our bedroom rug when I came home last week. Fortunately I saw it rather than felt it. I'm sure it was a gift from one of our four. I kind of wish they would have enjoyed the dessert.

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