My wife is for the birds.
Literally.
She's a member of Audubon.
Our backyard has several feeders and birdhouses. We have to make regular runs to buy 40-pound bags of seeds.
But along with the birds come some other critters.
Squirrels. (For whom I have a certain fondness, so we also feed them!)
Chipmunks. (Not singing, though.)
A woodchuck. A large fellow that makes my dog nervous.
And ...
A couple of summers ago, at least one rat.
He had apparently taken up residence under the garage, and was spotted making runs out to seed debris beneath the largest feeder.
My wife referred to him as Rattus rattus. But since he was a brown rat, he was technically Rattus norvegicus. Not that it mattered.
He was a rat.
The other guests were welcome. But Brother Rat, while still one of God's creatures, was an uninvited guest.
Besides, he and/or his brothers and sisters got into some books I had stored in the garage.
Now I know Francis was not a big fan of books, but to chew them that way ....
Options:
Poison.
A deadly rat trap.
A capture alive trap.
I opted for the latter.
First day, a chipmunk. I let him go in the yard.
Second day, Rattus norvegicus was in there.
He did not look happy.
After morning Mass, I took him to a nearby park where there's a picnic area and a large often-full dumpster. Mmmmm.
I released the lock on the trap. He leaped out in mid air, hit the grass running, and was gone.
I didn't even get a chance to preach to him!
After that, we watched to see is any of his buddies show up under the bird feeder before resetting the trap.
As for Brother Rat, given the life span of rats, he's probably no longer with us. But I hope his last days were happy and full of good things to eat.
Literally.
She's a member of Audubon.
Our backyard has several feeders and birdhouses. We have to make regular runs to buy 40-pound bags of seeds.
But along with the birds come some other critters.
Squirrels. (For whom I have a certain fondness, so we also feed them!)
Chipmunks. (Not singing, though.)
A woodchuck. A large fellow that makes my dog nervous.
And ...
A couple of summers ago, at least one rat.
He had apparently taken up residence under the garage, and was spotted making runs out to seed debris beneath the largest feeder.
My wife referred to him as Rattus rattus. But since he was a brown rat, he was technically Rattus norvegicus. Not that it mattered.
He was a rat.
The other guests were welcome. But Brother Rat, while still one of God's creatures, was an uninvited guest.
Besides, he and/or his brothers and sisters got into some books I had stored in the garage.
Now I know Francis was not a big fan of books, but to chew them that way ....
Options:
Poison.
A deadly rat trap.
A capture alive trap.
I opted for the latter.
First day, a chipmunk. I let him go in the yard.
Second day, Rattus norvegicus was in there.
He did not look happy.
After morning Mass, I took him to a nearby park where there's a picnic area and a large often-full dumpster. Mmmmm.
I released the lock on the trap. He leaped out in mid air, hit the grass running, and was gone.
I didn't even get a chance to preach to him!
After that, we watched to see is any of his buddies show up under the bird feeder before resetting the trap.
As for Brother Rat, given the life span of rats, he's probably no longer with us. But I hope his last days were happy and full of good things to eat.
Just as long as he didn't spend them in our yard.
Pax et bonum
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