The 'Tail' of the White Weasel: Part II

Thursday, February 17, 2005 (PM)
...originally emailed Friday the 18th.

Thursday was a challenging day from start to finish. The easiest part was indeed the doctor's appointment.

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[Small medical interlude with my neurologist: What I was told was going to be a lumbar puncture ended up being a discussion of options. Whew! We discussed my symptoms and the results of my tests. The MRI films did not show any physical abnormalities or degenerative diseases, and the EEG did not show any seizure type afflictions. Whew! The doctor further mentioned that the spinal tap would pretty much only be used to test for a variety of MS that does not show in MRI scans. So, the spinal tap has been put off until further notice. Whew! So, we will be trying to see if we can find a medication that will help. He called it: "Throwing mud at the barn and seeing what will stick!"]
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...Now, back to our "tail":

To refresh our memories (or for those joining this story for the first time), Hubby and I discovered a white weasel in our kitchen cabinets Thursday morning. We were unable to catch him before we had to leave for work, and hoped that he would find his way out. He didn't. Or, did and came back.

After my doctor's appointment, we were scrambling for time. Hubby had to be in Superior for a church committee meeting at 6:30pm. At 75 mph, we got home at 6:30pm. He dropped me off and bee-lined for the church (another 10 minutes down the highway). Enter here, "the White Weasel". [Heretofore affectionately named: "Rocket".] I went into the house and turned off the alarms, unloaded work stuff, then called Mom to touch base about my appointment. While on the phone, I heard that familiar noise coming from under the sink. Ending the phone call (with the promise of an update), I peeked under the sink and found a blue Walmart bag writhing in the cabinet. 'Rocket' was snacking on a pasta noodle package. I put on my leather gloves and attempted to take the bag and all its contents outside.

If you have ever seen the movie "Star Wars: The Attack of the Clones", where Yoda shows his prowess with a lightsaber, you may have an idea of what the next half-hour looked like. By using a mop as an arm extension, I was able to keep 'Rocket', the greasy bolt of white lightning, confined to the living room. He was amazing!

He was leaping off of (or under, or behind) every chair, the couch, the video rack, the bookcases, the plants, the lamp, the computer, the printer. Sometimes darting as a white streak, sometimes arching his back up like an inchworm and crow-hopping across the floor. [I understand this is 'weasel intimidation'. It didn't work.]

'Rocket' also managed quick tours of Hubby's briefcase, a tissue box and a few garbage cans. I was suddenly thanking God for our dark blue carpet (having for years grumbled at every black shoe that I would stub my toes on), because Rocket's shiny white fur was very visible against it. I could watch his progress around the room and I could easily see his nose sticking out from under chairs ...checking to see if I was still standing there.

During this time, I had the door open and was trying to gently direct him outside. A few times I nearly lured him into reach by scratching the bottom of a paper bag or the bottom of a cardboard box. [See folks, it's not just for cats anymore!] By 7pm, I was giving up. My stamina for standing was wearing out, I was dizzy and I needed help. I called the church to have Hubby come home. [This was a major trick if you picture me with a mop in one hand, guarding the weasel, trying to look up a phone number then dialing the call.] Mercifully, Hubby came straight home (his meeting partially completed over the phone afterwards). However, a minute or two before he reached the driveway, Rocket finally went out the front door. HALLELUJAH!

Having talked to my wildlife-biologist brother-in-law (Thanks, Bro!), he warned that once weasels have a way in, putting them outside won't stop them. I immediately started to find ways to block the opening under the kitchen cabinets. Cookie sheets were my best option, but not a very good one. Hubby came in and he had a much better plan. By 8pm, with his carpentry skills, we had a barrier of oriented strand board covering the access. [Note: We discovered that the builders of our home did not finish the inside of the cabinets and there was a large 'doorway' from the under side of the cabinet giving free access to the kitchen.] Refinements to the barricade will be made this weekend.


After cleaning up our mess, I began to clean up Rocket's mess. He seemed to have taken a fondness to the food packaging and the coffee filters. There were coffee grounds everywhere inside the cabinets. We laughed - not only did we have a weasel loose in our house, we had a weasel on caffeine! Yikes!

The only low point was Hubby's heartbreaking disappointment at not having an opportunity to catch the weasel himself. Rocket would have been a greater challenge than the baby chipmunk, or 'Zippy' the Chipmunk who were rescued from our furnace last summer.

Ah, the joys of living in the woods! And so ends another chapter in two sagas. Barring changes in medical conditions, or weasel howitzers blowing up wooden barricades, things should be quiet for a while. I hope!


My thanks for sharing in these little experiences with us.
Happy Friday!

Thank you

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Until we meet again...
Godspeed & God Bless!