Driven up the wall by musang

A musang pandan crawling above a door near the writer’s garden in hopes of finding another route to the roof.

A PEACEFUL night’s sleep often eludes me these days. The reason: musang pandan (Asian palm civet), with their scratching and squeaking sounds, have become nightly visitors to my roof.

To make matters worse, they have found a cosy spot in the ceiling right above my bed.

I often have to turn up the volume of my iPad when watching movies to drown out the sound and in the hope the loud noise will drive them away.

Unfortunately, this has not deterred them from returning.

In a bid to find out how many of these musang have been terrorising my bedtime, I waited for them in my garden a week later.

It was 8pm and my neighbour’s dogs were barking, signalling the musang was nearby. I could also hear their squeaking sounds from afar.

“They are here mum!” I said while running towards the noise, armed with a torchlight.

In disbelief, I spotted the family of four jumping from my neighbour’s roof.

The young were climbing up my pomelo tree to get onto my roof while the adult was waiting to assist them.

Despite my delight at seeing the animals above me, I was more concerned about having my peaceful sleep restored.

We decided to bring down the pomelo tree that night itself to prevent them from getting on my roof.

The adult civet cat was not pleased with our actions.

She came to the rescue of her offspring by pulling them by their neck one by one, after their route was foiled.

The family left that night and I finally enjoyed a good night’s sleep.

I prayed hard that they would not return but also took the time to find out what I could do if they did.

A quick check online told me I wasn’t alone; many residents choose to cut down their fruit trees while others bought cages to trap the cats.

Trapping them seemed to be another good idea but finding a trap was tough. After a lot of walking around, I finally found one at a hardware shop in Bangsar.

“Are you trying to catch a musang or a large rat?” asked the shopkeeper.

I told him I had musang invasion problems.

“Don’t worry. This cage is good, many residents here have bought it.”

“Who do I call to release the musang later?” I asked.

“You have to release them in the jungle far away,” he said, adding all his customers do the same.

That was difficult. I imagined having to sit with the cat, travelling a long distance together.

“What if the cat jumps back into my car?” The thought of that happening scared me so much I decided to leave without buying the cage.

My mother also felt it would be difficult trying to trap the family since there were four of them. We did not want to leave the young ones without their “caretaker”.

So we had no choice but to go with the option of cutting down our trees.

The family returned a week later and used my bougainvillea plant to get to my roof. I found out and moved the plant elsewhere.

My friend Eva, who lives in Bukit Tunku, has a similar problem but with monkeys.

She could never fully enjoy living amidst lush greenery as she had to keep her windows closed at all times. Once it was left ajar and the monkeys took full advantage by ransacking her bedroom.

The worst was during Chinese New Year when they carted away jars of cookies.

It is tough to continuously find ways to deter them but it is costlier trying to clean up the mess they leave behind. My ceiling still has stains left by the musang.

I have papaya and mango trees in my garden while my neighbours have planted banana, mango and guava but we never get to appreciate any of the fruits. It feels as though we planted the fruits for the animals.

With green lung zones being turned into residential and commercial areas, it looks like these animals will continue to make mischief.

Local councils should also play their part by planting more fruit trees when beautifying parks.

Organisations involved in wildlife conservation could provide traps for residents like me to rent so that the animals could be shifted to more suitable areas.

For now, I would have to agree that the musang chase is tougher than running a marathon.

“As soon as you chase them away, they will find another way to crawl up your ceiling again,” said a friend.