rodentia

I was staying at the cabin alone for a while after Carl left. Sleeping became more difficult after he left. The mice in the cabin became much more active at night, scurrying around in the attic, up and down the walls and across the floor. There were rustling and gnawing noises that started soon after I went to bed. When there were two of us, I don't remember hearing so much activity at night. I suppose if the mice heard creaking bunks, breathing and occasional shifting from two different places, they weren't exactly sure where danger might come from. But when there was only one human, and any noises only came from one location, they felt bold enough to carry on their normal activities without trying to be too quiet. Perhaps they would just keep themselves ready to run away from the corner of the cabin I was in, instead of having to worry about two different threats in two different locations.
Sometimes I'd get frustrated and yell at the mice, shake the bunk bed or hit the wall (but never too hard, for fear of causing structural damage). That would quiet them down for a few minutes, and I'd hope to get to sleep before too much rustling and scurrying started again.
Early one morning, after a night of fitful sleep, there was a horrible scratching sound in my dream. It seemed to be coming from right next to my head, and I woke with a start when I realized the sound was real. I looked over on the wall next to me, but there was nothing, and since I made some noise when I sat up, the sound stopped. I was about to lie back down, hopefully to drift back to sleep when the noise started again. I quietly got out of bed and I could tell that the sound was coming from the porch, which was on the other side of the wall. I carefully picked up the shotgun and walked to the door. I opened it quickly and a little red squirrel jumped from somewhere and ran out the porch door.
I went out onto the porch and looked around. There were fresh scratch marks on the wooden table on the porch. It looked like the squirrel had been scratching and gnawing at the wood in a particular place on the edge of the table. The table was pushed up against the wall so the sound was transferred from the wood of the table to the wood of the wall. That's why it sounded like it was right next to my head, because it was. I moved the table out an inch or two from the wall and went back to bed. That squirrel had really leapt when I opened the door. It must have gotten quite a fright, so it wouldn't be coming back any time soon.
The mice had mostly ceased their nocturnal noisemaking activities by that time of the morning, so it was pretty quiet and I started to drift back into restful sleep. I was quite annoyed by the scratching noise that started up again just as I had fallen asleep. Since the table was no longer pressed against the wall, it wasn't quite as loud, but still loud enough. I knocked on the wall and heard the squirrel scamper away. I was going to go back to sleep, but I kept expecting the noise to start again, so I couldn't really relax and gave up after a few minutes and got up. I figured it would be good to get up and get an early start anyway. After all, who needs a few extra hours of wonderful restful sleep.
I had a pretty good day, but by that night I was especially tired. Before I went to bed, I made sure the porch door was completely closed and I put a metal tray over the part of the table that the squirrel was gnawing on, so it wouldn't be able to scratch there and wake me in the morning. I was tired enough to sleep through most of the mouse activity that night, but very early in the morning, I again awoke to a horrible scratching sound. I got out of bed as quickly as I could and yelled and stomped as I opened the door. The squirrel leapt from the table and went for the porch door, which was closed. I stomped towards it, and it ran really fast to the corner of the porch, up the wall, and out through a hole up near the ceiling. This time I really scared it, and surely it wouldn't come back. I went outside to yell at it in case it had other ideas. It had run up into a pine tree. When I yelled and threw a rock at it, it started chattering at me. I thought that might not be a good sign. It seemed more angry at me than afraid of me. I went back on the porch and the metal tray was still in place, but I saw little bits of wood on the floor. I looked under the table, and there were tooth marks on the underside of the table. The squirrel must have hung there almost upside down to do that. Something must have been really appealing about that part of the table. I wondered if there had been something salty there, or if someone had cleaned fish or cut meat there or something. I sniffed it, but it just smelled like old wood to me.
After a few minutes, the squirrel had stopped chattering and I went out and yelled at it some more, but I didn't see it anywhere. I went back inside and sat down on the bunk bed. I was about to lie down, but I thought that squirrel might be back, so I got up, cocked the shotgun and put it by the door before lying down. It took me a while after the sudden activity, but I eventually fell asleep.
I'm not sure how much later it was that a scratching noise woke me up, but I got up slowly and quietly and made my way to the door. The audacity of that damn squirrel made me really angry. I picked up the shotgun, and opened the door quickly. The squirrel made straight for its getaway hole near the ceiling and I went out the porch door to see if I could get a clear shot. The squirrel was just running up the pine tree, and it was going pretty fast so I didn't think I had much chance of hitting it, but I took a shot. As the quiet morning was shattered by the shotgun blast, I saw the squirrel leap off the pine tree into the next tree, down a long branch of that tree, and off into the jumble of small trees and bushes next to the shack. I don't think I hit anywhere near it, but my ears were ringing, and I hoped the squirrels ears were ringing too. I didn't bother trying to go back to sleep that morning.
I never woke up to that horrible scratching sound again.