I found the trail through the grass this week, again. It is a path that leads around the fringes of my back yard, under bushes, behind objects, through the taller grass, to some dug out holes way around on the other side of my house. In an area where we rarely go because of the trees and brush, there are scores of little pellets that mean they are back. The wharf rats that thrive on a free source of pre-processed protein pudding, poo, have found their way to our backyard nirvana again. I’ve gotten rid of them twice before, but they are rats, and once they move in, well, you know – there goes the neighborhood.
I live inside the city limits so I can’t discharge firearms without drawing a crowd of unwanted cops, so I bought a pellet gun at Wal-Mart. I thought it might make them move on if I started picking them off, ha. The devil rats have a hellishly tough hide. Though I would normally never tolerate the torturing of any animal, I must admit I enjoyed popping them and watching them jump straight up in the air with a squeal. But alas, this doesn’t get rid of them, and I have limited time to shoot at rats, so this week I will have to buy some more poison. Rats are the worst. But, they do help keep the back yard a little cleaner and more pleasant smelling when they are here.
