Dale the chipmunk has a chip on his shoulder.
Okay, I admit, the chip may be partly my fault. I may have given Dale the idea that he was welcome and then pulled the mat out from under his little feet.
A few weeks ago I was sitting on the porch on a beautiful day when Dale ran down the sidewalk with what looked like nesting material in his mouth.
Good, I thought.
Maybe that will stop him from digging through my potted plants as if he were looking for hidden treasure.
Despite being a bit destructive, Dale is entertaining to watch. When I told him I thought he was cute, Dale seemed to take the compliment in stride and got to work. I was impressed with his work ethic.
That shouldn’t have been me.
The next morning I looked out the window and saw that the little rat had dug a hole the size of Connecticut in the middle of my landscaped garden, leaving a pile of dirt and mulch in its wake.
It dawned on me as I was handing out compliments that he was digging the hole right under my nose. It was time to get badass like a character from the Kathy Bates movie, Towanda!
When I was making a living and Larry was home with the boys, I heard that there were some interesting tricks going on.
Among other things, they used fireworks to blow little green army men into the air in the sandbox.
While it would be fun to watch a small explosion, I quickly dismissed the idea. It could be that there were chipmunks in the den who made little chipmunks to continue their reign of terror.
I decided to send a flood to Dale. The next morning the hole was twice the size of Connecticut!
Larry indulges me as I strive to live in harmony with animals large and small.
He found an elbow-shaped PVC pipe and inserted it into the hole. It was a perfect inch and a half in diameter. I had some ideas to make it look like part of the landscape. I was sure Dale would be happy.
The sun was setting that evening when Larry and I heard incessant chatter. I looked out the window and saw Dale handing me the items outside the entrance to his new home.
His mouth was moving a chipmunk mile a minute before I realized I wasn’t looking at the happy face I expected. My dream of getting along with the little guy was nothing more than a pipe dream.
Time to put fun things aside.
I pointed to Dale and gave him my best sass back, telling him in no uncertain terms that he either conform to the pipe or else.
Larry and I didn’t flinch. We’ve overcome bigger obstacles than a rodent with an attitude.
Dale stared at me for an eternity and then quietly scurried away. I felt victorious, but I thought about sleeping with one eye open that night.
I looked out the window first thing in the morning and saw Dale standing on the sidewalk looking back at me. He didn’t make a peep, but I could tell his mood hadn’t improved.
Two days before the deadline to send this, I was sitting on the porch in the same spot enjoying the cool morning air when Dale ran out from under a plant. As he looked at me, I reminded him that he lives near a flood plain, and that good landlords are only so accommodating.
-Rita Zorn is a wife, mother, grandmother and lifelong resident of Monroe County. She can be reached at 7.noniez@gmail.com
This article originally appeared on The Monroe News: Rita’s Reflections
