Leviticus 11:29 states “And these are unclean to you among the swarming things that swarm upon the earth; They also shall be unclean unto you among the creeping things that creep upon the earth; The weasel, the mouse, and the great lizard according to its kind.”

Usually, I dislike writing about wild animals as if they had human qualities, however, there are times when they do melt our hearts.

Through the years as a wildlife officer, I had many personal experiences with weasels. I also heard, by phone or mail, about experiences other folk had with weasels. One such experience began with a phone call from Joan Roy of Coryland. Joan, who was a science teacher at Troy High School, loved wildlife.

Her experience with “Willie the Weasel” began about the middle of December when Willie decided to move into the Roy home. Joan and her husband Loren lived on a farm that Loren had worked on all of his life. When Willie moved in, neither Loren nor Joan became alarmed, knowing that the weasel would take care of any mice they might have.

So, the weasel was welcomed into their home and promptly named “Willie the Weasel.”

Willie was a cream color when he first appeared at the Roy home; however, as the weeks went by, the whiter Willie became. During the winter months, Willie would be seen running across the living room floor and scampering through the kitchen. He would make almost a daily appearance. If several days went by and Willie had not made an appearance, Loren and Joan would think he had moved on, but Willie would make another appearance.

Willie became less fearful of his two hosts as time went on. He would peer at them from behind a chair while they sat reading or watching TV. Eventually, Willie didn’t run if Joan and Loren got too close.

It was about March when Willie’s coat began to turn brown. It took only two weeks to change into his summer coat. Oh yes, the name for a weasel wearing his winter coat is ermine. It was about this time that Joan and Loren decided to buy some young chickens.

“You know,” Loren said, “Willie will have to go.” “Yes,” Joan agreed. Both knew that weasels and chickens do not get along. Chickens are to weasels what ice cream is to a kid.

Loren told Joan that he would set a trap and when caught he would take Willie far enough away, so he won’t return. A live trap was set, and Willie soon found himself a prisoner. Joan decided to take the weasel to school the next day to show students before being released. However, having second thoughts, Joan called me to see if it was okay to take Willie to school.

My reply to Joan was, “Well, that’s up to you, but it’s been my experience that if I take a live animal to school, the children become excited and loud, and this alarms the animal. Joan decided to release Willie on her way home from school.

While Joan was in school, Willie was in a glass jar, with air holes punched in the lid. When Joan got in the car after school, she discovered that Willie had escaped. Willie was not your normal “run of the mill” weasel. He was smart and had unscrewed the lid from the inside by grabbing at the punched holes in the lid and turning.

Thinking that Willie probably had abandoned the ship and was now free, Joan started home. On the way, she stopped to run some errands. Each time she left the door open, thinking that if Willie had not left the car, he would surely do so with the door open. When she got home, Joan was sure Willie was now looking for a new home.

The next day Loren and Joan drove to Philadelphia. After several hours on the road, Joan felt something at her feet. It was Willie, and he wanted to play. All the way to Philadelphia, Willie put on a show for them, running across the dash and sitting on their shoulders.

While Joan was having her eye checked at the hospital, Loren took Willie to a nearby church school. The students were thrilled to meet Willie.

That night Loren released Willie near a friend’s home, which was just outside of Philadelphia. Although the couple hated to part with Willie, they knew being free was for the best.

Willie must have thought he would not adjust to city life because instead of running away, he apparently climbed into the engine compartment and spent the night.

The next day Loren started the engine. He heard a noise, backed the car up a little, and got out and looked. There laid Willie on the curb, dead. Willie was buried with full ceremonies in their friend’s flower garden.

“Yes, he was just a weasel, but he stole our hearts, and we’ll always remember the winter we spent with Willie the Weasel,” Joan said.

When Mrs. Roy called and told me about Willie living in her home, I thought it was neat. Not many people would allow a weasel to live in their home.

But then, another woman, Fay Morgan of Armenia Mountain, had allowed a weasel to live in her home one winter. At first Fay wanted me to trap her weasel, but after I explained to her that the weasel would take care of her mouse population, she allowed it to stay. Fay told me that when the weasel disappeared in the spring, she was sad to see it go.

In other incidents, weasels have not fared as well. In one case a big cat was locked in a room with a weasel, and unfortunately for the cat, it attacked the weasel and ended up getting beat up itself. The cat finally put up such a fuss and was so afraid of the weasel, its owners removed the cat from the room.

In another case, a rat trap ended the weasel’s life, and then in another case, a pellet gun so injured a weasel that it died. In most cases, the occupants of the homes become completely unglued. One woman refused to stay in her home until someone evicted the weasel. After all, it had run across her bed as she lay there trying to sleep. In still another case, a big hole was cut into the floor with a chainsaw to try to remove a weasel.

So, you see, not everyone would welcome a weasel into his home, even if he knew he wouldn’t have a mouse or rat problem. Some people prefer to have mice or rats over weasels.

Bill Bower is a retired Pennsylvania Game Commission Wildlife Officer. Read his blog and listen to his podcasts on the outdoors at www.onemaningreen.com.