I know a guy, let's call him Jim, who had an issue with a stray, feral cat living in his crawlspace.
Efforts to catch this feline went unrewarded. The crawlspace was too shallow and the cat too fast to be brought in by hand. I was witness to Jim chasing the cat in the crawlspace, propelling his full 240 pounds around on his hands and knees at surprising (and frankly unsafe) speeds. But lack of success, exhaustion, and a minor head injury forced him to abandon this effort.
To Jim's surprise, this cat was apparently trap shy, or at least wise to his shenanigans, because the live traps he set in the crawlspace remained forever empty. Traps on the outside were not an option, at least not after he caught a neighbor's cat in one (Jim too, is a suburbanite). Jim was frustrated, to put it mildly.
To circle back to the beginning a little, the way this cat got into Jim's crawlspace was, well, by the door. Time and weather had worked their magic on the crawlspace door so that it didn't fully close. It wasn't until this cat began squatting on Jim's property that he decided to repair it.
So one Saturday, he heads around the house to fix the door in hopes of preventing reentry by the cat. But as Jim began the necessary mental gymnastics required before taking on any Saturday home improvement project, he peered into the crawlspace and saw a pair of feline eyes staring back out at him. Without hesitation, he slammed the door (as much as it could be slammed), reached for a hammer, and proceeded to beat the door until it closed enough to offer no chance of escape for the vile animal.
Now I'm not saying I condone it (or that I don't), but Jim's next move was to abandon the repair and spend the rest of his Saturday nursing various craft beers. I assisted in this part of the tale. It wasn't until the smell of the cat's decomposing flesh reached Jim's nostrils days later that he even approached that crawlspace again. He pried the door open with a crowbar and retrieved his foe with a shovel before unceremoniously dumping the foul corpse in the trash. Jim spent the next Saturday after his victory repairing duct insulation in addition to the crawlspace door. He was quite satisfied with his work on all fronts.
I offer this story as a distraction for the OP, and perhaps as inspiration to consider any non-traditional, outside the box solution that may present itself.