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--> --> Jan. 10: The little house of (beastly) horrors By Larry Berteau It's not easy hanging out at my house. It's a long way from normal. If Ozzie and Harriet popped in for a visit on any given day, they would shriek with horror. My house is more suited for an Edgar Allan Poe-type, or the Marquis de Sade, or Tarzan, or a crazed arachnidologist - or a rodent. Ceiling waxwork Most homes have their walls decorated with pictures, posters, hangings, and things like that. No homes have decorated ceilings. We do. It's the same motif for both. Spider webs. Between my wife, the woman of infinite good humor, and my son, the heir to the vast Berteau fortune, all animal life forms are safe in our house. More than that, it's a sanctuary for all creatures, great or not-so-great. A Motel 6 for itinerant beasts - and the light's always on. In our house, spider webs are not disgusting drapings that must be removed. Uh-uh. Spider webs are works of art that also happen to house the earth's most reprehensible boarder. (That would be spiders.) The other members of my clan are fascinated by spiders. I don't know why, other than the fact they're ubiquitous. I can be kicking back, lounging on the couch, surveying a spider web over my head and trying my level best to adjust. Then, there it is - the spider - spinning around, touching up his house. He's probably removing human debris, unlike the humans at my house which are not reciprocating in any manner. I'll call out to anyone who cares to listen: "There's a spider over my head." My son will respond, half annoyed, "What kind is it?" "Brown recluse." "How do you know that, dad?" "Because it's brown." (There are only three kinds of spiders. The brown ones are recluses, the black ones are black widows, and the hairy ones are tarantulas. It's that simple.) "And, it's ready to sink its poisonous fangs in me," I continue. "All spiders are poisonous, dad," No. 1 son says. "It's just that ..." "I'm totally aware of that," I interrupt. And so it goes. This scene is played over and over at my house. We all have our parts memorized. We have recluses on the ceiling, black widows in the yard, and if I ever realized every golfer's dream of a 3-week vacation in Arizona at a magnificent club resort, I'd end up with a tarantula in my golf bag and it would be doing the tango with my 2-iron. Birds get rescued at my house. Stray cats get adopted. Neighbor cats access the cat door whenever they're hungry and eat at the Berteau Buffet. Bats circle my little half-acre as if it was the only terrain that granted the furry vampires flyover rights. Butterflies terminate their 100,000-mile migrations and retire for life in our buddleia bush - Miami for monarchs. We had a rattlesnake in the backyard that was spared the shovel over its pointy head. (The vote was 2-1.) I had to catch and release. Tail told by an idiot But it got out of hand last weekend. Granted, Frank Buck I ain't, but neither am I Gandhi. We had a rat under the sink. No problem, I say. Turn a few members of our cat herd on 'em. It'll be a feline stampede, and we'll have a rat rug when it's over. By Saturday evening, we were putting a HavaHart cage under the sink. It catches rodents alive. I can't make this stuff up. The hoary beast is attracted to a piece of cheese - of course it was a large hunk of my favorite cheese, not some cheesy, cheap imitation - and when he goes for the tidbit the door slams shut. Total cost, including the snack: $25. It's not a bad deal for the rat. He's protected from the cats, has enough dinner for six rats, and there's a little bowl of water to take the edge off. Come morning, he gets a free ride to a farm field. Now, there may be the odd hardship or two living in the wild for the filthy rodent - no cheese, no warm house and red-tailed hawks come to mind - but it beats the jaws of an unerring rat trap (the kind normal households utilize at a cost of $2). San Francisco treat I've tried to reason with the fam, like "Can we create a de-animalized zone?" I've tried threats, like "You know there's a city ordinance on how many domestic pets you can have." I've tried bribery, like "If we can just clear the cobwebs in the living room I'll take us to San Francisco, we can spend all day at the zoo, my treat." Nothing works. I'm Dr. Doolittle in dingo land. A rat lord. Spider central. Larry Berteau is editor of The Tidings. Email your... Technical questions & comments to: WebMaster Daily Tidings editorial comments & questions to: Editor Visit our other Oregon Newspapers... | Albany Democrat-Herald | Ashland Daily Tidings | Corvallis Gazette-Times | | Lebanon Express | Newport News-Times | Springfield News | Cottage Grove Sentinel | Ashland Daily Tidings 1661 Siskiyou Blvd. Ashland, OR 97520 Telephone 541-482-3456 © Copyright 2001 Lee Northwest Publishing