Let me preface this post by saying that a.) I love my house, and b.) I love all of God’s creatures. There, no judging now.
Our house is set up a little weird, compared to what I am used to. It is a concrete block and the original construction was built in 1936 or so, and a master bedroom, living room, garage and two porches were added in 1977ish. I guess that in the ’70’s, it made total and perfect sense for the garage to not be connected directly to the house, because in our house, you must walk through the porch to get from garage to kitchen, like so:
When we first moved in we were very good about closing the door to the garage, so as to keep the animals out. I say we, but I mean me because I get to park in the garage (aw yeah!) and I once found a dead mouse in there and decided I should be better about keeping it closed, ’cause poor guy and gross. But, like with a lot of things that I do, that eventually got old so now the door stays open more often than not. The problem with that is that the attic access is just an open space in the garage:
This is a great place for monsters or animals to get in to, and so they use it. Especially when I have so kindly left the door open for them. We have lived here for a little over a year now, and have never had any issue with it before now. Oh but now, there is an issue.
It all started about a month ago. I would say when the cold weather came, but we live in Florida so that would be a lie. Let’s say when the cooler weather came in.
Tate, Frank, Dutchie and I were in the living room just chillin’, when all of a sudden we heard a scuttling above us. Duchess started making her crazy squirrel-like attack noises, and Frank’s ears shot up and he started growling. All four of us just looked at the ceiling, and then I looked at Tate, who was already looking at me.
We do this thing where if we don’t want to deal with stuff, we act like it didn’t happen, so we just raised our eyebrows at each other in a “don’t say it” kind of way, and turned the t.v. back up. It’s a hell of a way to deal with things. Until those things get worse.
We have heard these creatures off and on since then, but as I am definitely not squeezing in that dark and scary attic access and I am too afraid to let Tate do it, either, we still don’t know what is up there. But now, there are either more of them, or they have given up on being quiet, because every night it sounds like they are rolling a damn golf ball around up there, and I just know they are going to come through the ceiling.
I don’t want to exterminate any animal, but I also don’t want them coming through my ceiling, so I guess I’m just going to have to let Tate go up there and find out what they are.
If they are kittens, we’re totally keeping them.