Holely Molely

I mentioned uninvited rodent guests in my last post.  Besides the obvious feline variety, we also have an outdoor tenant.  An unidentified pest has taken up residence below our porch slab in the backyard.  We first saw digging evidence several weeks ago.  There was a small tunnel in the rocks that ran below the slab.  When I noticed it, I pitched a fit and obsessed about it for 24 hours then, in typical Lily-fashion, forgot about it.  Many days later, when we were in the act of massacring (is this really how you spell this!?) one of our bushes, the hole was re-revealed.  Since Eli has an active knowledge of pest extermination from his serious TV viewing (see Call of the Wildman/Billy the Exterminator),  he was on the case.  He covered the hole with sticks, leaves, Marina's bubble container, and a boat.

A follow-up check indicated that the hole was active.  The animal had strewn the bubbles and leaves in all directions.

I started to think about the kind of animals that would invite to live in a hole under our concrete slab.  I imagined a passel of bunnies or a shivering cold kitty or even a little raccoon.  I decided that any one of these would be acceptable patio neighbors (yes, I've read Where the Red Fern Grows).  Unfortunately, vigorous internet research (of course) revealed that none of these snuggly animals dig holes through rocks to live under concrete.  The choices are more like rats, skunks, or marmots (these are beaver-looking things without the distinctive tail).  Similarly troubling are nasty opossums who live in holes that other animals dig (lazy!).  The level of acceptable pest is in direct proportion to the level of cuteness.  Rats, skunks, opossums are decidedly unwelcome.

This boiled on in the back of my brain for days.  We conducted several more hole-blocking tests to see if the pest would leave on its own.  Nope.  Then I had a brilliant idea ("If there was a problem, yo, I'll solve it.  Check out the hook while my DJ revolves it.")  I devised a surveillance plan.  I needed to be sure there wasn't an orphaned family of cute animals hiding in the hole before I sealed off the mother's entrance.

Here was the plan:

Yep, that's my cell phone on a broomstick held fast with athletic pre-wrap.  I turned on the video camera with the flash illuminating the way.  I shoved the phone in the hole and blindly tried to capture the orphaned babies.  I found it puzzling that the broomstick kept going.  It never hit the end.  It was like a trip to Narnia in there.  Here is a video so you can see what we saw.  Pardon the vomit-inducing screen motion.  It's like when I saw the Blair Witch Project in the theater and had to step out to dry heave in the bathroom.  In my own defense, it is challenging to maintain a steady hand when operating a cell phone camera at the end of a 4-foot stick that is plunged underground.

What we learned from my video research:  a.) there were no orphaned baby animals hiding in the hole. b.) the hole was not so much a hole but more of a tunnel combined with ground that has settled far below the concrete.  c.) our concrete patio is literally suspended over nothing.  d.) we are going to have to impose a weight-restriction for all of our future patio guests.

So what now?  Who knows.  We still have an animal who moves our boat/bubble barricade daily and we still have a "patio situation".  I might throw a bunch of soiled kitty litter down the hole.  I read that pests can find this very offensive.  Also, this will give me a chance to get rid of the nasty litter.  Plus, if I keep this up long enough, our concrete slab can balance solely on crappy cat litter.  Win-win.