I live in a rat infested house. The crawlspace and garage in particular have attracted a sizeable rodent population. Or a population of sizeable rodents, both descriptors are accurate.
The other day one nearly plopped on my head while I was opening the garage door. Apparently, he was asleep on the top of the door, and when I opened it he was jostled out of his slumber and sent down the slide to land at my feet. He was uninjured and ran off to the nearest hideout where he would wait in the queue of other rats to take his next turn on this new amusement park ride.
I decided enough was enough. While I am not a killer, I am in favor of the deportation of undesirables. I set out a trap that was big enough for a raccoon and calibrated the little trigger pad for a rat sized catch. I had discovered that if you don't do this they will walk right over the trigger and eat the bait without springing the trap. A nice piece of wood placed on the pad was just enough to bias the scale and make it easier to trip.
After finishing dinner, I heard it spring shut. I've heard the sound enough times to know exactly what it sounds like. I went out to the garage, and sure enough, I had a customer. He was banging around the cage and defying gravity, like those Mexican motorcycle riders who fly around gyroscopically inside a giant metal sphere.
This guy wanted out but was too plump to fit through the grates. I decided not to prolong his detention and threw the cage in the car and drove him down to the creek at the end of my block. I set him free and he disappeared into the night.
I don't know if he'll return or not. It's perhaps a quarter mile from my house, and he'll have plenty of predators to deal with between the creek and my place. I do know that my job is far from over because when I went to put the trap back in the garage, I heard a thumping and thunking of the next customer scampering about in the dark. I don't have a problem escorting them to the edge of the wilderness and saying, "Begone, thou scourge of Egypt!" Let the Exodus begin.
No comments:
Post a Comment
I've changed my comments settings to allow for anyone to comment. All comments are welcome, even spineless potshots from anonymous posters. Please, by all means, give me the tongue lashing I so richly deserve. I promise not to hunt you down and melt your keyboard with my plasma cannon. I won't, however, promise not to pout and make that face you can't stand.