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Animals in the Attic

I’m just going to say right now that I think Heavenly Father gets extra creative when writing the screenplay of my life. Things are going along as expected and He’s like, Too normal... That’s when I find wild animals in my house. Cue gongshow.

While Being in Love, Adventure #2

About a month ago, my mom was visiting from out of town. For a few days while she was here, Jk was in Arizona, so it was just mum and me. One night, I came back from work, walked in the door, and was overwhelmed with the amount of noise blaring from every corner of the house. This was in May, before we made the decision to turn our AC on, so all of the windows were open. I could hear dogs barking, music blasting, and lawnmowers mowing. But above all that, I could hear the sound of an animal cooing. My mom was just chilling on the couch, drowning out the noise.

Me: What is that?
Mom: What is what?
Me: That animal sound.
Mom: It’s so loud in here, I didn’t notice.
Me: You didn’t notice?
Mom: I think it’s a bird outside.

I followed the sound to the ceiling in our main hallway and there it was. The sound of a wild animal not only cooing like a maniac, but also scratching on our attic door. Terrifying.
Jk and I have a few things stored in the attic and all I could picture was a band of animals running wild, pillaging our boxes, destroying everything. We couldn’t tell if the sound was actually a bird or if it might be a chipmunk or a raccoon or something. There was no way that I was going to open that attic door and risk having an animal of any kind fall on my face. So I called Jk in Arizona.

After explaining the situation, he told me to call the Police. (Side note: Jk loves calling the Police. It’s like, any semi-urgent situation or community disturbance, he wants to call up his buddies at the station.) I was so surprised. “Call the Police?!” I asked. He told me they could send Animal Control. That made sense to me. Long story short, a guy from Animal Control came to the house, listened at the attic door, and told me that he thought we had raccoons. Scratch scratch scratch, cooooo. He suggested two things that we could do: set raccoon traps or open the attic door and see.

I’ve seen Elf. The scene with the raccoon on Will Ferrell’s head? Not happening. I would never in one million years be the one to open that door. My mom and I stood at a safe distance while the man slowly and cautiously pulled the door open and climbed the ladder up to the attic.
He turned on his flashlight, walked around a bit, then announced, “There are birds up here.” Baby birds, sigh of relief, not raccoons. Apparently a mama bird had gotten into the attic through a hole in the roof and set up house. Unfortunately in the heat of the day, she must have gotten dehydrated or something, because the Animal Control guy found her dead body. We stood below while he scavenged the attic, gathering up the baby birds and placing them in a bucket. Shortly after, he descended the ladder and walked out the door, bucket and baby birds in tow. Just as abruptly as it began, it was over.

And I was reminded that when my husband isn't there, my mom will always be a good partner in crime.


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