Critter in the belfry

At 7 am this morning I decided to take the squirrel by the tail. Well, that may be an overstatement. What I really wanted to do was catch the little bugger in a cage and set it free outside. Where squirrels belong. In the wild. NOT in my house.
I heard chewing in the wall again. And for some reason, I was propelled into action. Out to the garage in my bathrobe to fetch the step ladder. Gathered up gardening gloves & straw hat, flashlight, a cracker slathered with peanut butter and the cage. Climbed the ladder, shoved on the sheet rock attic hatch in our bedroom and it broke in half. Then it got stuck, half in, half out. I pushed harder and that's when the insulation and plastic sheeting began to fall out. Uh-oh. Picture me in my robe with a straw hat holding a heavy piece of sheet rock perched atop my head and two hands. The phone was within reach of my foot, but who would I call? That's when I almost started to cry for being so dumb. Before the first tear could fully form I told myself, "NO. You can do this." The only solution was to take down the hatch because it was not going back into place. I could have left it at that. But, being determined, I opted to place the bait in the cage and shove it up into the attic. It tripped once, but I prevailed.

At the outset of this adventure, I suspect I wanted to prove that I can cope with minor situations when forced to do so. Throw in the added bonus of NOT hearing running, scratching & gnawing when the rest of the house is dead quiet. I figure it this way, either I'll catch it in the cage or it will climb out of the attic through the big gaping hole and Chester will have an indoor safari. If it does miraculously end up caged, then I'll figure out what to do next. The city offices must include A Man Who Knows What To Do In These Animal Catching Situations. I'll just call the city.

Until then, I'm sleeping in the living room.