Well, we got the little bastard. We set a couple of traps in the crawlspace, the humane “catch&release” kind. (Brenda’s idea, not mine.) I checked in on them daily for the first few days, but to be totally honest I completely forgot about them by Wednesday. But today I was putting away some tools (the aftermath of a very un-Norm Abrahm weekend last week), and I noticed that the traps were both closed. I thought of the scene in “Ghostbusters”, when they get the first call, and Annie Potts yells “WE GOT ONE!!!!!!!!!!!!”.

The traps were set back to back, so I figured that our uninvited guest must have gone for the peanut butter bait and when the trap door snapped shut the vibration must have caused the other one to close as well. I gave one a cautious wiggle, then the other. One was definitely heavier than the other. There was SOMETHING in there. “Brenda? When was the last time you checked the traps?”, I asked. Yesterday. Hmmm. Could the stupid thing have died in a day? I shook the trap, but the mass in there did not seem to move around. Well, it was hammer time. Time to take this thing outside and release whatever was in there, but I was starting to think it was dead.

From the safe refuge of our patio, I set the trap on the ground and opened the door. Our friend emerged, looking very pissed off, and soaked in sweat (later we decided it was actually covered in the peanut butter), eyes still beady. He shot us both a “screw you” look, and darted off into the bushes right next to our house.

I have a feeling that if his pals don’t eat him for the peanut butter in his coat, he’s gonna try and come back in the house. At least this time we’ll smell him.