Sunday, July 12, 2009
Rat Tales
After many weeks of sunshine we finally have a much needed rainy day. The garden looks refreshed and we have been experiencing that rare weather system in Western Washington, the thunder storm. While I am frustrated, since there is a lot of work to be done in the garden, this does give me a chance to write in my blog.
One of the things I have learned about gardening is that there is something called the law of unintended consequences. Just try taking out a tree sometime and you'll know what I'm talking about. Suddenly all the plants that were under the tree have a brand new environment to survive and some of them don't. But who would have thought that doing your bit to encourage wildlife, I'm talking now about birds and butterflies, would have unintended consequences.
I mean, it sounds so nice to be visited by birds of all kinds and it was for quite awhile, and then one evening I was finishing a burger while seated at the patio table with my neighbor Steve, when a BIG BLACK RAT came wandering out from between some flower pots. "Did you see that?" Steve asked. Indeed I had, and upon investigation I discovered that he was feeding on the seed that the birds dropped on the ground under the feeder. I had seen squirrels raiding the feeder and had run them off, but rats? So I started watching the feeder and discovered that not only did we have a black rat there was also an acrobatic gray rat that could climb the tree and go directly to the source of food rather than waiting for the birds to spill.
Naturally, I sprang into action! The next day I went to my nearest sporting goods store and found my way to the gun counter. I told the young man behind the counter about my problem and he said, "So you've got varmits, huh? Suddenly I felt like Yosemite Sam! Yeah, I got varmits and I want to blast em!" Twenty minutes later I left the store with a pellet gun with a scope and the assurance from the clerk that I could definitely finish off a rat with the lethal force of my weapon.
That evening I crouched on the deck waiting for the rat to emerge. Suddenly I spotted the acrobatic rat scamper up the tree. I cocked the gun and fished out a pellet, put it in the cylinder and closed the gun. I took the safety off, took aim, and hit the side of the barn twenty feet beyond the rat. He looked around as if to say, "What the hell was that?" And went back to raiding the bird feeder. My next shot wasn't much better, but it did scare the rat away from the feeder at least. Discouraged, I told Joyce, maybe we should hedge our bets and get some traps as well. So we set out some traps in the car port and garage, the great big kind that are about four time the size of a mouse trap. Joyce came up with a concoction of chocolate sauce, molasses, and peanut butter and it really worked pretty well. The day after she set it, she had a gray rat. So she set another trap and caught another gray one. After four rats I began thinking, "Oh, oh, we've got a whole village of rats, not just one or two."
All was quiet for awhile and I began to think, maybe we'd scared them into deserting our yard and going some place where the bird feeders weren't so well guarded. Then, one night I was sitting on the deck with Joyce enjoying a glass of wine, I looked in the direction of the tree and there was a gray rat sitting on the feeder stuffing his face. I ran for my gun and came out onto the deck ready to blast him. Joyce said, "You know I used to be a pretty good shot, would you mind if I tried?" I loaded the gun and passed it to her. She rested the barrel of the gun on the railing of the deck, slowly took aim, and squeezed off a shot. I heard the shot, and then a thud. "You hit him!" I yelled as I ran toward the tree. Then I heard a rustle among the hostas and ferns and I realized that she'd hit the rat alright, but she'd only stunned him. So much for the killing power of my mighty weapon.
The next day I bought some rat poison at the hardware store and put the trays in the crawl space of the house. In a few days there was a bad smell coming up through the vents in the master bath and when I checked the poison, the tray was completely empty. I don't know how many there were, I wasn't curious enough to crawl under the house, and within a week the smell was gone. Joyce continued to use the traps until an unfortunate chipmuck got whacked! That threw her into a funk for a couple of days and she swore off the traps. We stopped feeding the birds for awhile too and we think we've wiped out the rat village. But just in case, I still have my pellet gun at the ready even though now I think I'm a lot more like Elmer Fudd than Yosemite Sam!
One of the things I have learned about gardening is that there is something called the law of unintended consequences. Just try taking out a tree sometime and you'll know what I'm talking about. Suddenly all the plants that were under the tree have a brand new environment to survive and some of them don't. But who would have thought that doing your bit to encourage wildlife, I'm talking now about birds and butterflies, would have unintended consequences.
I mean, it sounds so nice to be visited by birds of all kinds and it was for quite awhile, and then one evening I was finishing a burger while seated at the patio table with my neighbor Steve, when a BIG BLACK RAT came wandering out from between some flower pots. "Did you see that?" Steve asked. Indeed I had, and upon investigation I discovered that he was feeding on the seed that the birds dropped on the ground under the feeder. I had seen squirrels raiding the feeder and had run them off, but rats? So I started watching the feeder and discovered that not only did we have a black rat there was also an acrobatic gray rat that could climb the tree and go directly to the source of food rather than waiting for the birds to spill.
Naturally, I sprang into action! The next day I went to my nearest sporting goods store and found my way to the gun counter. I told the young man behind the counter about my problem and he said, "So you've got varmits, huh? Suddenly I felt like Yosemite Sam! Yeah, I got varmits and I want to blast em!" Twenty minutes later I left the store with a pellet gun with a scope and the assurance from the clerk that I could definitely finish off a rat with the lethal force of my weapon.
That evening I crouched on the deck waiting for the rat to emerge. Suddenly I spotted the acrobatic rat scamper up the tree. I cocked the gun and fished out a pellet, put it in the cylinder and closed the gun. I took the safety off, took aim, and hit the side of the barn twenty feet beyond the rat. He looked around as if to say, "What the hell was that?" And went back to raiding the bird feeder. My next shot wasn't much better, but it did scare the rat away from the feeder at least. Discouraged, I told Joyce, maybe we should hedge our bets and get some traps as well. So we set out some traps in the car port and garage, the great big kind that are about four time the size of a mouse trap. Joyce came up with a concoction of chocolate sauce, molasses, and peanut butter and it really worked pretty well. The day after she set it, she had a gray rat. So she set another trap and caught another gray one. After four rats I began thinking, "Oh, oh, we've got a whole village of rats, not just one or two."
All was quiet for awhile and I began to think, maybe we'd scared them into deserting our yard and going some place where the bird feeders weren't so well guarded. Then, one night I was sitting on the deck with Joyce enjoying a glass of wine, I looked in the direction of the tree and there was a gray rat sitting on the feeder stuffing his face. I ran for my gun and came out onto the deck ready to blast him. Joyce said, "You know I used to be a pretty good shot, would you mind if I tried?" I loaded the gun and passed it to her. She rested the barrel of the gun on the railing of the deck, slowly took aim, and squeezed off a shot. I heard the shot, and then a thud. "You hit him!" I yelled as I ran toward the tree. Then I heard a rustle among the hostas and ferns and I realized that she'd hit the rat alright, but she'd only stunned him. So much for the killing power of my mighty weapon.
The next day I bought some rat poison at the hardware store and put the trays in the crawl space of the house. In a few days there was a bad smell coming up through the vents in the master bath and when I checked the poison, the tray was completely empty. I don't know how many there were, I wasn't curious enough to crawl under the house, and within a week the smell was gone. Joyce continued to use the traps until an unfortunate chipmuck got whacked! That threw her into a funk for a couple of days and she swore off the traps. We stopped feeding the birds for awhile too and we think we've wiped out the rat village. But just in case, I still have my pellet gun at the ready even though now I think I'm a lot more like Elmer Fudd than Yosemite Sam!
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