Batman Begins!
You'd think people would take better care of a million dollar home in a tony suburb of New York City. Above the three-car garage, gaping holes lead into the attic."That's how the flying squirrels get in," says the large, friendly man. In his hand is the evidence.
Meet animal remover Don Schaus -- a bouncer at the gilded gates booting out any pest that's not on the guest list: raccoons, bats, rats, even coyotes. And business is booming, thanks in part to transplanted city folk whose visions of "Green Acres" have turned into "When Animals Attack." Occupational hazards include bites, clawings, disease...and ill-tempered bees.
Schaus got his introduction to the wrath of rousted bees the first time he was called in to remove honeybees from a house. "There were easily 40,000 of them," he says. After tearing away part of the roof to get at them, Schaus sucked out the bees using a bee vac, which he likens to a Dirt Devil attached to a storage box.
Now, experienced bee extractors go into battle sporting a full-body suit, a bee veil and hat that covers the upper body, and heavy-duty gloves that reach the elbows. Schaus showed up wearing garden gloves and a bee hat that barely covered his head. So the bee counterinsurgency found him unprepared. The first wave pulled a Pearl Harbor on his right wrist. A second circled his flank, getting him on the other wrist, while a third squadron opened a front up his pant legs.
Forty-odd stings later, Schaus retreated, wrapped any bare skin in duct tape and rags, and finished the job.
Schaus dismisses the bee attack as an annoyance, much the same way office workers feel about a jammed copier. For those of us who think wildlife is a dog that isn't paper-trained, this may seem surprising. But angry bees are all in a day's work for a man completely at ease with the whims and vagaries of wild animals. He even sees worth in the most reviled species.
"I like rats," Schaus says defensively. Huh? "They're smart. If they see you catch another rat in a trap, they won't fall for the same trap." Ah, that rarest of all humans -- the North American Rat-Liker.
"And bats can eat 1,500 mosquitoes an hour," he says, responding to a catty remark that bats are scary and they should all just go away. "Let them do their job."


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