A Day in the Life of a WMP
1 Oct, 2008 By: Mark E. Dotson Wildlife Management ProfessionalThe alarm clock rang and I rolled over to see what time it was. It was 7 am and I needed to hit the road early today. My schedule was full, and I wanted to catch an hour on the sun.
Mark E. Dotson
I made my usual trip to the bathroom to shower and then returned to my bedroom to get dressed in a nice clean uniform. I grabbed some breakfast and headed down the hall to my home office.
An early check of e-mail and faxes showed just the regular stuff, with some junk mail thrown in, of course. I checked my voicemail and learned that I had to include another stop to pick up a raccoon that was caught that night. With 10 stops on the books, it was going to be a busy day. I re-checked my schedule to figure out where to fit in this raccoon catch and penciled it in.
Heading out the door, I forwarded my office phone to the cell phone and made my way to the truck. I made sure all of the equipment I needed was on board, and I was on my way.
Stop 1: Ken and the 'Squirrels'
The first appointment of the day was going to be an easy one. The young couple had squirrels in their attic and was tired of living with their "squirrel alarm clock". I checked my map to get a good idea of where they were located, and rolled the truck out of the driveway.
Traffic was a little lighter at this time in the morning, so I was going to be able to get to my appointment with ease. Or so I thought. About halfway to my client's house, traffic ground to a halt and I needed other options.
Listening to the radio, I learned that there was an accident that was going to snarl things up for another 20 to 30 minutes. That definitely changed things! It was time to get off on the next exit and navigate through some city streets. A quick look at the map gave me some options, but they were not going to be that good.
I managed to creep up to the next exit and made my dash to the side streets and a couple alleys to get me past the back-up. I decided to get back on the highway as the traffic would now be lighter with the crash behind me. It worked! I was soon rolling uninhibited to my client's house. Life was good.
I arrived on time with a few minutes to spare. Jumping out of the truck, I was ready to tackle this squirrel problem and get on to the next job. I rang the doorbell on a nice home in Cherry Hills Village, Colo., and a young professional answered the door. I introduced myself and he said his name was Ken. I asked Ken to give me the details about the nature of the problem and asked him a few questions. I told him I would be doing an inspection of the entire house and the attic and he said, "Help yourself."
It was time to pull the ladder off the truck. I make it a point to never take the ladder off until I speak to the client. You never know if they are going to be home or may ask you to come back at a later date.
I rolled the 28-foot ladder off the truck, leaned it against the house, eased it back and hoisted it up to the roofline. I grabbed my inspection mirror, flashlight and tape measure and was on my way up.
I climbed onto the roof and began my inspection. I looked at all the normal areas, including the rooflines and vents, but couldn't find anything. Hmm. The house didn't have a chimney, so I was going to have to inspect around the rooflines from the ground and see if there was anything that I was missing.
Back down on the ground again, my perimeter search began. There was nothing out of the ordinary in the front of the house. I went around to the gate that was in the high wooden fence. A quick whistle for any dog that might be waiting to take a bite out of me revealed nothing.
I opened the gate and continued my search around the house. Nothing.
"This is not right," I said to myself. It was fall, and the clues were not adding up.
I went back to the truck, grabbed my respirator and my five-foot stepladder and headed toward the attic.
On the way back in, I asked Ken at what times he was hearing the noises. "Early morning and sometimes at night," he replied. Well, this inspection was going to take a twist, if my instincts were correct.
I headed to the master bedroom closet where Ken indicated the attic access was located. I opened the door and there it was, right up over the clothes and shelf. So, it was going to be one of those balancing acts to get into and out of this attic. I donned the respirator, turned on my light and eased the door open. The access door was set aside and I made my way up the ladder and into the attic.
As soon as I stepped into the attic, the cell phone rang: Murphy's Law. I let it go to my voicemail because you never sound very professional trying to talk through a respirator!
The inspection of the attic was humming right along. There were neither obvious trails in the insulation, nor any wiring or structural damage. A closer inspection revealed small holes in the insulation and some small trails along the walls.
Then I encountered the telltale sign that I was expecting: mice droppings! They didn't have squirrels in their attic, they had mice.
Now for the hard part — convincing the owners that it was mice when they were sure it was squirrels. Sometimes your clients are "the experts" and you just need to convince them otherwise.
I made my way back down out of the attic, closed the access door and retrieved my stepladder. I met Ken on the way downstairs and told him that there were mice in the attic.
"Mice!" he said. "It sounds like a herd of elephants up there!"
I assured him that it wasn't elephants and he chuckled a little. I told him, "Ken, there was no evidence of squirrels, only mice". He was a bit relieved to know this and I told him what his options were. We could recommend a pest management company to treat the mice, and then we could seal up the home when the mice were gone. I loaded up the ladders, tied them on and I was on my way again.
Next Issue: Mark continues his crazy day with Agnes and the cats.
You can reach Dotson, executive officer of A All Animal Control, at contributor@mypmp.net.
Please send any technical comments or questions to our webmaster.