(Rats!)
According to popular mythology, one is never more than ten feet from a rat – I believe that’s supposed to apply in “civilization”. Presumably “in the wild” they get a lot closer?
I have no special antipathy to our furry rodent neighbours, unfortunately they are not content with the “neighbour” status and have started brazenly burrowing in the garden, and perhaps even under the floors.
Our 100 year old house, was, in a past life, not just the home of a local butcher, and the shop of a local butcher, but also included in its grounds, the butchering yard. The old shop (above which we live), is a take away establishment. Our next door neighbour is also a take away. We are technically located in a retail park, which includes about four blocks of waste ground, and is sandwiched (less than 500m) between two rivers.
Under the circumstances, the surprise is not that we get rats, but that we do not also get Alligators, Pythons, and Capybara. Admittedly these three might require some larger traps, and possibly cheese would no longer serve as bait of choice, but at least we could send small children after the Capybara into their burrows. (not that we have any “small” children- any more – surely we could rent some ?)
As it is, the main problem appears to be that the rats hold evening classes to point out to their children which traps are where, and how they work, and probably have blind tasting where they learn “that smell is poison”. Unfortunately, while we have taken a couple of youngsters who clearly skipped class (moma said you would come to a bad end if you cut school), we have much more success(?) with the less educated bird life. (Who would believe a bird would wander into a cheese scented metal cage?- twice!).
This last weekend has seen a different tactic, more of a seige warfare appraoch (I did suggest building a trebuchet, but then I could not see how to persuade the rats to sit in the sling till I fired it). Existing burrows have been laboriously blocked off. Pea gravel and wire wool have been stuffed into tunnels. Pepermint spray applied to every suspicious corner. Chicken wire blockades created at choke points. I extended the hose to “suspicious hole in the ground number one” and pumped water down until in became a standing puddle.
I’m sure somewhere there’s somebody who will boastfully claim they won their war with the rats, but I suspect, a stalemate in my favour is likely as good as it gets. However no action has been seen these last three days. Still, I’m not counting my chickens (I would be counting my chickens if I had any), I suspect “they” are probably building Booby Traps, or just maybe, striking up an alliance with the Alligators.
Next week On IaDL : “He that hath no music in his soul…”
(bonus point if you can identify the quote, no googling)
Dalmallyfest the Asylum 