jmy wrote:I have been at war with a rat in the garden all summer. When I noticed the first nibbles, I thought it was a squirrel eating the vegetables. Then I saw holes in the ground and thought mole or vole or some underground creature. One night, every ear of corn was chewed on. Then the baby rats were running all over. (One person mistook them for bunnies.) The littles ones were easy to dispatch and most went to the snap trap, though the neighborhood cat made off with a couple. I couldn't catch mama rat, though. I saw her, the dogs saw her, but she was too sly.
I was seriously contemplating a high-powered pellet rifle and night scope, but this morning the dog came through. With a squeak and a shake, the rat was dead. The dog got an extra cookie. It almost makes up for the time she tore apart a down pillow. Almost.
Cross-post: Where to Drop a Rat in Detroit.
Few events in life are as satisfying as defeating a cunning rat. They are wily and formidable opponents, worthy of our respect on the field of battle. This makes the glory of victory all the sweeter when you can finally taste it.