March 13 2007, 02:30 AM Nesting

There are dead spaces in houses, bits and pieces of wastage that cannot or could not be used for reasonable habitation or storage: under eaves, gapes filled in between pipe chases, that sort of thing. They are sealed away, out of sight and mind from both within and without, most often not giving cause to think of them, except perhaps to fantasize about lost casks of Amontillado, up there forgotten on joists. There is one such space in this house, in back behind a kicker wall, a prism of eave far above the ground. There is a squirrel in it.

This is somewhat unnerving. The only possible way I can see in from the outside is a tiny hole in the soffit of the eave, a good ways high above the grim pavement of the patio. The only route the thing could take is to clamber up the drain pipe (I have heard them do this) and then leap through a foot or so of clear air to the hole, managing to clamber in. At least, I think that's what it did. Squirrels can be clever.

I am not entirely sure what its doing up there, expect to play merry hell with the plaster and the whatnot. This, too, is unnerving - the lack of lights in the evening and the hollows of the house enlarge the noises, the scrapes and thunks, and I find I must take a candle upstairs and give good judicious thump to the walls so that it will quit kicking up a racket and I can get some sleep. I do not wish to dwell yet on what siege it might manage to lay to the house, yet. I will find out in time, I'm sure.

And, at least, I think it's a squirrel. At night, it sometimes seems that Cerberus has lost his way, and is living in the walls. I somewhat hope Cerberus doesn't have a penchant for wiring.