Scat

The “tap-tap-tapping” was loud enough to startle the dog, who woke up from a sound sleep with her game face on, barking as if the Jehovah’s Witnesses were on our front porch with copies of The Watchtower and Awake!

As I’ve been known to tell them, “Trust me, you’ve got the wrong house.”

“Tap-tap-tapping.” 

The ubiquitous Ring Video Doorbell we had installed wasn’t chiming. No one was outside.

It was something else.

Madison – the killer dog who allegedly nipped Sprinkler Guy John – growled, barked some more and then went back to sleep.

I heard the noise again, so I got up and put my ear to the outside wall, where the tapping sound seemed to come from. What an idiot. As if I can hear on a good day.

Plus, I wasn’t wearing my glasses. It’s been scientifically proven that blurred vision adversely affects ears, so I need glasses to hear better. My mother used to say this, so I know it’s true.

Then I heard it again. “Tap-tap-tapping.”

I envisioned a velociraptor in the attic smacking its long tail on the ceiling waiting to tackle and disembowel prey with enlarged sickle-shaped claws on each hind foot. I could just imagine its long skull and upturned snout peeking through the cold-air vent. Only dust would deter him!

Jesus, Mary and Joseph.

Never mind that the velociraptor dinosaur species lived 70-some million years ago. In 2008, somebody who was looking found fossils of raptor skulls in Mongolia, China. Seriously.

Knowing this, I did what anyone does in this digital age: I grabbed my phone and googled “noise in the attic.”

It took awhile to scroll through pictures of rodent feces, but I finally found it. According to online experts, the time you hear the noise is a big clue. If the noise is during the day, especially in early morning or evening just before sunset, then it’s almost always squirrels. If the noise happens at night, it’s probably raccoons, rats or another nocturnal beast.

Second, location of the sound matters. If it’s in a wall or a very tight space, it’s probably a rodent, like rats or mice.

Third, sound volume matters. The heavier the thumping and walking, the larger the animal, such as a raccoon or opossum. If it’s fast and light scampering during the day, it’s probably a squirrel. Nighttime scampering? We’re back to the rodents.

There was no mention of velociraptors.

I decided to ask some local experts.

My neighbor’s friend David said, “Oh, don’t worry, Jen. It’s probably birds flapping their wings looking for food in your gutter.”

Right. How many CBD gummy bears have you ingested today, my man?

What kind of bird finds food in a gutter? Urban birds with some serious street cred, that’s who. I can hear them perched on the corner tweeting now:

“Yo, Robin, your red breast rocks, girl.”

“Bitch, please, I’m from Detroit.”

But we’re in Troy, home of overdeveloped land, palatial assisted living centers with dog parks and strip malls without hookah bars. I doubt we have homeless birds.

So, I texted another expert, my old friend Rachelle, who has had more than her fair share of experiences with unwanted houseguests. Most recently, raccoons the size of shopping carts took up residence in her attic.

She texted back that there was only one way to tell what’s making all of that racket.

“Scat,” she wrote.

A little harsh telling me to leave, I thought. We’ve been close friends since high school, but maybe she was just having a rough day.

“What?” I responded with a red heart emoji face.

She began typing some more, thank goodness, ending up with these words: “You must examine the scat. You know, the animal’s poop.”

Ohhh. That scat.

She gave me the number of her wildlife remover, Critter Guy Chad.

I hope Maddie doesn’t find him tasty.

Stay tuned. This isn’t over.