Rayelene
Chirping
I have no time for rats. Yes I know some people find them adorable with their cute little whiskers and fluffy fur but I am not won over by them at all. For the past two weeks they have intruded on my idyllic country life by stealing their way into my chook run, so until I have got a more ‘rat-proof’ set up I have to remove the food every night and bring it inside. However because there is now no food out there for them they have made their way to the house.
As I lay in bed last week I heard a scratching sound in the roof and I knew exactly what it was, so on payday I purchased a rat-trap and loaded it with peanut butter (seems to work well for mice) and sunflower seeds. I wobbled my way up my pink stepladder and removed the manhole cover in the garage and carefully placed the trap just inside the roof cavity. I must confess, as I lay in bed that night I felt more than a little guilty but I consoled myself with the thought that at least it would be quick.
But victory was not to be mine for on checking the trap in the morning I found it was still set. I waited another day and checked again. Still nothing. On the third day I forgot and it was very late in the evening before I remembered. I climbed the stepladder, torch in hand and lifting the manhole cover with my head I poked my head into the roof space. I froze … right in front of my face, frozen in the light of the torch was the rat. Its beady little eyes were staring straight at me. An involuntary noise, not unlike a squeal escaped and I dropped my torch. That rats eyes got really big, its whiskers twitched and it squealed back. I got such a fright that I slid right down the ladder, scraping my knees on the way down and then fell backward on the floor on my butt. I could hear mad scampering in the roof as that terrified, but happy little critter absconded into the darkness. Those cute rats in the movie ‘Flushed Away’ are nothing like ‘real life’ rats and I decided in that moment that my dislike of them is totally justified.
I decided too that, apart from the dangers of climbing the ladder, this pesky rodent would be very wary now and was not likely to return to the manhole cover, so I removed the trap and placed it on the floor in the garage hopeful that it would prefer the trap food than the wiring in the roof. As I slept that night I dreamed about that rat. It was sitting at the rat trap with a little knife and fork, delicately dining on sunflower seeds and peanut butter, and in my dream it threw its little head back and laughed and laughed.
I was really disappointed the next morning to find the trap still un-sprung, but right beside it stood a plastic bucket with sealed lid in which I keep the chook food. That sharp toothed fiend had chewed away a corner of the plastic lid, and given more time, would have gotten into the bucket. There was no sign of the little knife and fork though, which confirmed to me that part at least was indeed a dream. I cleaned up the mess and yesterday I put some of the chook food on the trap to tempt that critter, placed the trap right beside the bucket it had chewed, confident that this morning would see that rascal dead in my trap. Wrong again.
I woke this morning to find the trap still loaded, the bucket untouched and all my vegetable garden seeds (about 45 packets of them) chewed up, the remains strewn on the garage floor. Not a packet left intact. I sure hope he enjoyed the feast and appreciated the fact that most of those seeds were expensive organic seeds.
So today I spring cleaned the garage. I moved every item and swept it out. I then removed all food, including the chook food and the blood and bone bag it had attacked. I have placed the trap once more on the garage floor and sprinkled some food on it. Even now as I type this I can hear scurrying sounds in the roof, and if I listen hard enough I’m sure I can also hear the faint sound of laughter. It mocks me.
I might note here that all feelings of guilt are now gone and if that disgusting thing is not in my trap in the morning I’m going to pull out the big guns and buy some rat poison. Meantime .. I'm off to google on how to make my method of feeding my chooks both rat and mice proof
As I lay in bed last week I heard a scratching sound in the roof and I knew exactly what it was, so on payday I purchased a rat-trap and loaded it with peanut butter (seems to work well for mice) and sunflower seeds. I wobbled my way up my pink stepladder and removed the manhole cover in the garage and carefully placed the trap just inside the roof cavity. I must confess, as I lay in bed that night I felt more than a little guilty but I consoled myself with the thought that at least it would be quick.
But victory was not to be mine for on checking the trap in the morning I found it was still set. I waited another day and checked again. Still nothing. On the third day I forgot and it was very late in the evening before I remembered. I climbed the stepladder, torch in hand and lifting the manhole cover with my head I poked my head into the roof space. I froze … right in front of my face, frozen in the light of the torch was the rat. Its beady little eyes were staring straight at me. An involuntary noise, not unlike a squeal escaped and I dropped my torch. That rats eyes got really big, its whiskers twitched and it squealed back. I got such a fright that I slid right down the ladder, scraping my knees on the way down and then fell backward on the floor on my butt. I could hear mad scampering in the roof as that terrified, but happy little critter absconded into the darkness. Those cute rats in the movie ‘Flushed Away’ are nothing like ‘real life’ rats and I decided in that moment that my dislike of them is totally justified.
I decided too that, apart from the dangers of climbing the ladder, this pesky rodent would be very wary now and was not likely to return to the manhole cover, so I removed the trap and placed it on the floor in the garage hopeful that it would prefer the trap food than the wiring in the roof. As I slept that night I dreamed about that rat. It was sitting at the rat trap with a little knife and fork, delicately dining on sunflower seeds and peanut butter, and in my dream it threw its little head back and laughed and laughed.
I was really disappointed the next morning to find the trap still un-sprung, but right beside it stood a plastic bucket with sealed lid in which I keep the chook food. That sharp toothed fiend had chewed away a corner of the plastic lid, and given more time, would have gotten into the bucket. There was no sign of the little knife and fork though, which confirmed to me that part at least was indeed a dream. I cleaned up the mess and yesterday I put some of the chook food on the trap to tempt that critter, placed the trap right beside the bucket it had chewed, confident that this morning would see that rascal dead in my trap. Wrong again.
I woke this morning to find the trap still loaded, the bucket untouched and all my vegetable garden seeds (about 45 packets of them) chewed up, the remains strewn on the garage floor. Not a packet left intact. I sure hope he enjoyed the feast and appreciated the fact that most of those seeds were expensive organic seeds.
So today I spring cleaned the garage. I moved every item and swept it out. I then removed all food, including the chook food and the blood and bone bag it had attacked. I have placed the trap once more on the garage floor and sprinkled some food on it. Even now as I type this I can hear scurrying sounds in the roof, and if I listen hard enough I’m sure I can also hear the faint sound of laughter. It mocks me.
I might note here that all feelings of guilt are now gone and if that disgusting thing is not in my trap in the morning I’m going to pull out the big guns and buy some rat poison. Meantime .. I'm off to google on how to make my method of feeding my chooks both rat and mice proof
Though my dog wasn't a terrier, dogs work in general. One of the biggest problems with rats here is the fact that they attract snakes, but once the pythons arrive, they stop at the chooks. Easier to catch a sleeping chook than a nocturnal rodent.
