Hath's Chipmunk Adventure

Yeah, you're seeing right.

Chipmunk.

Isn't he adorable?  Yes, yes he is.

He is also an OUTSIDE TOY.

As in, he does not need to be waiting at the TOP OF MY STAIRCASE in the garage so when I open the door from the house, he's staring at me like, "Now what?" and scaring the ever-loving shit out of me.

As in, he does not need to then bound down the stairs, ignore the WIDE OPEN, eleven-foot-tall, garage door and disappear into the back of the garage, making me follow him.

As in, he does not need to look me in the eye, twitch his little tail (and I swear, he winked at me) and disappear under the furnace.

This was SO not the thing I wanted to do today.

So, what do I do?  Wake up Mr. Hath?  NO! It's a chipmunk, dammit, I should be able to outsmart a chipmunk on my own, right?

First thing I tried was opening the back door, near the furnace.  I figure, he sees outside, he's gonna take off, right?  Avoid the big, scary human?  Nope.

Great.

Now I've grabbed a flashlight, put down a tarp so I don't have to go back upstairs and change clothes, and am kneeling on the floor to peer under the furnace.  I see his little black eyes staring at me, all but DARING me to come after him.

I figure I'll scare him out of there.  I go fire up the furnace, assuming the loud CLICK-CLUNK-WHIRRRR will get him moving.  Nope; he just flattens out on the bricks that are underneath said furnace, and awaits my next move.

Shit.

Maybe if I prod him with a dowel or something, he'll come out.  I mean, you poke at me with a stick and, assuming I don't take it from you and beat you about the head and neck with it, I'm gonna move out of the way.  I should be able to find a stick without pulling one off a tree -- it's a garage for cripe's sake -- there's scrap wood everywhere.  What's the only dowel-like thing I can find?  A 6 foot closet bar.  It was really quite comical, me trying to get this thing to slide under the furnace without having to kneel on the dusty floor and get all dirty.  But I do, and the little rat squishes into a corner to avoid it.

Bastard.

Then I have the brilliant idea to take a bicycle pump, slide the nozzle near the creature, and scare it out with a puff of air.  I found the pump, inched closer to the 'munk's hiding place, slid the hose underneath, and let 'er rip.  After dashing back to my car to rinse out my contact lenses, I see that the chipmunk has come out from under the furnace on his own.  He's now sitting behind it, on the little concrete lip that runs the length of the garage.  I slide a piece of cardboard down between him and the furnace, so he can't get back underneath, and shoo him toward the door with my big freaking stick.

By now, the sun is starting to rise, the birds are waking up, and the chipmunk must be hungry.  I mean he had to have been in the garage all night.  He should be DYING to get outside and find one of the zillions of acorns out there, right?

Wrong again.  He cowers in a corner of the garage, looking petrified. Now I feel badly for the little thing.  I want to scoop him up and carry him outside, but I don't want him to bite me.  I patiently goose his little furry ass with the end of the closet bar until his nose is near the open door.  He gets a good whiff of outside, turns to look at me again, then unhurriedly meanders out the door.

And how did you spend the pre-dawn hour?

~ Hath

PS: I did remember to move the piece of cardboard, so as not to burn down my garage should the heat turn on.  I told Mr. Hath about my adventure this morning, and he said I should have woken him; that was a $100,000 AFV winner episode.