Maybe we should build a moat. Can squirrels swim?
Joanna and I have changed our opinion of squirrels since we moved into our home more than eight and a half years ago, when stately trees attracted us to our neighborhood. In the early days, we enjoyed watching the furry little critters scurry along our back fence and scamper through our red oaks, elm, and bald cypress.
That was before we realized they’re the spawn of Satan.
One fall, a young male stripped the bark off the center-top limb of my third-favorite tree, a red oak that shades our backyard. He just about killed that lovely tree, and an arborist still says its future is uncertain.
Squirrels to Mars
I sprayed fox urine in the tree, and the squirrels apparently thought it was Chanel No. 5. We set traps to catch squirrels, but I couldn’t dispose of them properly, because NASA doesn’t have a program to transport squirrels to Mars.
Our house’s metal roof apparently is difficult to seal completely. So, on a couple of occasions, squirrels have moved in with us. Do you know how disconcerting the pitter-patter/swish-swishing of tiny squirrel toes above your head can be?
When I think about squirrels in the attic, I think about the video of the guy who used rubbing alcohol to remove bedbugs from the back seat of his rental car. He succeeded, sort of. The bugs are gone, but the car burned up. So, I pray for squirrel-fighting wisdom. And restraint, blessed restraint.
Despite my poor luck with my third-favorite tree, I sprayed fox urine in my attic. (You can’t smell it downstairs, thank the Lord.) And I installed an ultra-high-frequency thingamajig up there. A pest-control guy explained squirrels enjoy the sound of that doohickey about as much as I enjoy polka music. So, our attic is squirrel-free. For now.
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Still, the sight of squirrels running along the roofline and the sound of squirrels running across our patio roof just about creeps us out. Jo told me I needed to do something to keep the squirrels off the roof.
A weekend wasted
So, I spent a chunk of a weekend squirrel-proofing our roof. I installed sci-fi-looking spikes on the fence near the edge of the house, so they can’t jump from fence to roof. Then I trimmed back all the branches of all the trees that came anywhere near touching our roof.
Yesterday, I was busy at work when Jo sent this text: “I just watched a squirrel jump from your cut-off tree limbs onto the roof.”
Well, we’re not chopping down the trees to get rid of the squirrels. But if squirrels can’t swim, maybe a moat would do. Or if they can swim, maybe a moat filled with squirrel-eating alligators. Or perhaps we could convince a family of owls or hawks to move into one of the trees.
The persistent perseverance of those pesky squirrels causes me to think about the pests that keep cropping up in my life: Bad habits. Worry. Pride. Greed and covetousness. Plus a few sins so personal they remain private.
They’re the squirrels in my spiritual/emotional home. One by one and from a distance, they seem harmless enough. But if I allow them in—when I allow them in—they make a mess and wreck the place.
That’s why spiritual disciplines are so vital.
If you’re of a certain age and grew up Baptist, you remember the little boxes on your Sunday school offering envelope. Every week, we checked whether we read our Bible, studied our lesson, planned to stay for worship and the like.
Spiritual squirrels
As an over-achieving, adult-pleasing preacher’s kid, I thought checking boxes was important. So, I wasn’t above “scanning” my lesson during the block-and-a-half ride to church. If they gave perfection pins for miniature hypocrites, I’d have a chest-full.
Somewhere along the way, I learned checking boxes isn’t important. But reading and meditating on God’s word is life. Prayer is essential. Gathering with the saints is spiritual oxygen. Even fasting—probably food-loving Baptists’ most suspect discipline—feeds the soul.
That’s not to say I’ve conquered my spiritual squirrels. But I know how to chase them out of the attic.
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