We had a prehensile porcupine living in our kitchen for over two weeks.
Yes. A porcupine. In our kitchen.
For about ten days she just sat on a beam next to the wall, ten feet up in the air, and slept all day. We came to realize that she left around 8pm and came back sometime before 6am. She never “relieved herself,” made no noise and didn’t come down from her shelf. She just woke up every hour or so and scratched.
That was it. We named her Sleepy.
It was kind of fun to have this animal in our midst; she was calm and didn’t pose any problems. Her existence didn’t disrupt our lives and even added to the fun of something new, unique—and WILD! Part of the excitement was the thrill, even though we read up enough to know porcupines don’t actually throw their quills, it was still an undomesticated animal in our midst.
We enjoyed her.
Then one day…
It smelled REAL bad when we entered the kitchen and we found our precious, possibly-pregnant porcupine had finally felt at home enough to do “all things.” She also managed to break a couple bowls.
That was it. She had to go.
But now that she had made her home with us, she didn’t want to leave. We aimed a big fan at her, we poked her with a stick, we banged pot lids together to wake her up (the kids had a good time with that), we marked our own territory; but we found that spraying her with water really got her attention.
One day Larry got her out of the kitchen by soaking her enough that she had to stop and shake it off, and then he and two neighbors captured her in a sack. The neighbors released her in a forested area a quarter of a mile away, but joked about making a soup instead. Larry hammered screen over the space between the concrete wall and the metal roof. We were glad for our time with her and that we didn’t have to kill her.
It took seven days. But she found her way back in.
This time we were ready with vinegar in the spray bottle. She got out quickly and I doused the concrete wall and wooden beams with vinegar. But the next night she came right back.
Larry took a big one for the team when he got a cage, grabbed her by the tail, received in his nostrils and a bit on his shirt the extremely pungent defense mechanism she employed while trying to escape. In the end, we (and by “we,” I mean Larry, ALL BY HIMSELF) got her into a cage. Larry cleaned up the bulk of the mess, and that afternoon he and Isaiah went on an adventure together. They drove to the protected and more densely-forested area at the end of our community to release her.
I am very sensitive to smells, so after Sleepy felt more “comfortable” in our home, I asked God to show me some truth about himself or the world to help me deal with this “thing” in our midst. (She ceased to be affectionately known by me as “Sleepy” now that she was bugging me.)
God showed me the comparison to sin in our life. At first it’s fun, it’s different, it’s a new adventure. We know it’s not supposed to be there, but it’s not really disrupting our life so why not let it stay?
Then it starts to excrete. Whatever that looks like. Sin suddenly starts to disrupt our lives, and we realize that even though we liked it at first, we recognize that it does not belong and it is indeed causing us great discomfort.
But we can’t get rid of it. We put up barriers, make it unwelcome and banish it from our presence. And we might be free for a bit.
But it comes back.
Before Larry caught Sleepy this last time, I realized the only way to truly get rid of sin is to kill it. And of course, we can only do that as we die to self with Jesus on the cross. Otherwise that sin nature is always going to rise up and come back.
I’m thankful we didn’t have to kill the porcupine. Much of the local wildlife is hunted and the forest is losing its diversity as people kill animals and cut down trees.
But we have already agreed that if she does come back, the machetes are coming out. There won’t be a soup pot because, gross. But we won’t take any chances for her return. And likewise, when sin gets that bad you’re finally ready with your own machete to take care of it once and for all.
It causes me to be more vigilant, too. Every time I open the kitchen I look up to make sure Sleepy isn’t asleep on her beam. And once I have been made aware of sin in my life, I am able to catch the temptation to sin and kick it out.
Yes. A porcupine. In our kitchen.
For about ten days she just sat on a beam next to the wall, ten feet up in the air, and slept all day. We came to realize that she left around 8pm and came back sometime before 6am. She never “relieved herself,” made no noise and didn’t come down from her shelf. She just woke up every hour or so and scratched.
That was it. We named her Sleepy.
It was kind of fun to have this animal in our midst; she was calm and didn’t pose any problems. Her existence didn’t disrupt our lives and even added to the fun of something new, unique—and WILD! Part of the excitement was the thrill, even though we read up enough to know porcupines don’t actually throw their quills, it was still an undomesticated animal in our midst.
We enjoyed her.
Then one day…
It smelled REAL bad when we entered the kitchen and we found our precious, possibly-pregnant porcupine had finally felt at home enough to do “all things.” She also managed to break a couple bowls.
That was it. She had to go.
But now that she had made her home with us, she didn’t want to leave. We aimed a big fan at her, we poked her with a stick, we banged pot lids together to wake her up (the kids had a good time with that), we marked our own territory; but we found that spraying her with water really got her attention.
One day Larry got her out of the kitchen by soaking her enough that she had to stop and shake it off, and then he and two neighbors captured her in a sack. The neighbors released her in a forested area a quarter of a mile away, but joked about making a soup instead. Larry hammered screen over the space between the concrete wall and the metal roof. We were glad for our time with her and that we didn’t have to kill her.
It took seven days. But she found her way back in.
This time we were ready with vinegar in the spray bottle. She got out quickly and I doused the concrete wall and wooden beams with vinegar. But the next night she came right back.
Larry took a big one for the team when he got a cage, grabbed her by the tail, received in his nostrils and a bit on his shirt the extremely pungent defense mechanism she employed while trying to escape. In the end, we (and by “we,” I mean Larry, ALL BY HIMSELF) got her into a cage. Larry cleaned up the bulk of the mess, and that afternoon he and Isaiah went on an adventure together. They drove to the protected and more densely-forested area at the end of our community to release her.
I am very sensitive to smells, so after Sleepy felt more “comfortable” in our home, I asked God to show me some truth about himself or the world to help me deal with this “thing” in our midst. (She ceased to be affectionately known by me as “Sleepy” now that she was bugging me.)
God showed me the comparison to sin in our life. At first it’s fun, it’s different, it’s a new adventure. We know it’s not supposed to be there, but it’s not really disrupting our life so why not let it stay?
Then it starts to excrete. Whatever that looks like. Sin suddenly starts to disrupt our lives, and we realize that even though we liked it at first, we recognize that it does not belong and it is indeed causing us great discomfort.
But we can’t get rid of it. We put up barriers, make it unwelcome and banish it from our presence. And we might be free for a bit.
But it comes back.
Before Larry caught Sleepy this last time, I realized the only way to truly get rid of sin is to kill it. And of course, we can only do that as we die to self with Jesus on the cross. Otherwise that sin nature is always going to rise up and come back.
I’m thankful we didn’t have to kill the porcupine. Much of the local wildlife is hunted and the forest is losing its diversity as people kill animals and cut down trees.
But we have already agreed that if she does come back, the machetes are coming out. There won’t be a soup pot because, gross. But we won’t take any chances for her return. And likewise, when sin gets that bad you’re finally ready with your own machete to take care of it once and for all.
It causes me to be more vigilant, too. Every time I open the kitchen I look up to make sure Sleepy isn’t asleep on her beam. And once I have been made aware of sin in my life, I am able to catch the temptation to sin and kick it out.