Squirrely squatter stakes claim on Greendale attic


History will show it was the squirrel who started this war.

In an instinctive act of aggression, it occupied the territories known as the Jensens' attic. The Greendale family had no choice but to fight back.

For weeks now the battle has raged, with each side advancing and retreating. Dave Jensen, the king of the castle under siege, has developed a healthy respect for the gray squirrel across enemy lines.

"Normally when you see a squirrel, it's just a squirrel. But now it's like I know him. He's a very worthy adversary," Dave said when I embedded with his forces this week.

Dave, who runs a marketing and communications firm when he's not playing Bill Murray in "Caddyshack," liberally applies pronouns to the squirrel. Sometimes he says him, sometimes her. Who can say for sure?

The fact that the animal tore up a bunch of insulation in the attic and built a pink fiberglass nest up there suggests a soon-to-be mom. It was all the scratching and scampering above their bedroom ceiling that alarmed Dave's wife, Vicki. She's had it up to her soffit with this critter.

"It is a mix of being distraught and being hysterical," she told me in an e-mail. "Our house has lost $15K in value with the sheet metal, six holes in the side of the house, roofing being torn out, a radio with 24-hour sports talk being blared out the back window (yesterday it was Rush). And now we have a fake owl outside the window in an effort to scare him. Oh, we also have a spotlight to prevent him from chewing."

That's not Rush as in "Today's Tom Sawyer, mean, mean pride." It's Limbaugh, who's been known to actually attract rodents.

The squirrel has chewed holes right through the eaves to get into the attic. When Dave would nail sheet metal over one hole, the squirrel would gnaw another. This required him/her to hang upside-down from the rain gutter, which it's also been eating.

The owl from Stein's is mounted on a two-story pole with a habit of falling over. The Jensens also have deployed two squirrel traps. This clever squirrel has managed to score the bait of peanut butter and seeds from both without getting caught.

"What if he's got this all figured out?" Dave said. "He may have been eyeing this house for years."

As we spoke, the squirrel darted across the backyard. "That's him!" Dave said, slowly advancing, binoculars in hand.

While I was there, the squirrel hid in a pine tree and didn't do any of the things the Jensens have alleged. That may be part of its brilliance, Dave joked, making it seem like the humans have gone mad and need to be institutionalized. Then it gets the house.

"Meanwhile," Dave said, spying the top of the tall pine, "he's probably got a reporter from the Squirrel Times up there. I think he's one-upping me."

Vicki admits the squirrel is cute, but she'd kinda rather see it, um, dispatched than inside their house. She said she called the Greendale police and was told, yeah, she'd probably get arrested if she tried a .22-caliber solution.

Vicki appreciates her husband's effort but has advocated for calling in the pros. One animal removal service told her that for about $200 they would catch the squirrel and drive it to bucolic-sounding Lake Mills to let it go on a farm.

The Jensens were advised you have to drive a complicated zigzag route in the dark to the dumping spot, otherwise the squirrel figures out, "Hmm, so I just walk back to I-894 to Forest Home Ave. to 84th and I'm home."

If the squirrel ever is caught, the Jensens plan to spray-paint its tail a bright color so they know for sure if it finds its way back.

Dave still hopes for a diplomatic solution. He pictures the squirrel pulling back to any of the nice trees in the yard as a suitable nesting spot. They will eye one another with admiration as Dave relaxes on the patio.

"We'll be like retired generals."