Good with words

Fear... distractions.... the efforts of a self-employed writer to pay the mortgage.... all that jazz.

Wednesday, April 19, 2006

Run, ratty, run

I've tried everything, trust me: coaxing Charlie out to the garden, banging about in the shed loudly, tidying away all the interesting nibbly things, even just simply ignoring the rat colony in our garden.

Unfortunately our neighbours got wind of them on the weekend, and our neighbours are the sort to obsess about things like rats, and lose sleep until it is resolved.

Thus the Rat Man came out yesterday. My neighbour and I liaised over the pest control companies, and both rang different ones to try to get a good price. He picked "Assassin Pest Control" and rejected the lovely old man I found at "The Pied Piper". He said, "You only picked that because you want him to come with a tin whistle and lead the rats away on a happy dance," and I said, "Yes."

Anyway, Assassins are cheaper than the Pied Piper, so that was who came. The rat man looked like a rat with gelled hair and a pointy nose, and made uncool jokes about them. He pointed out the clues: a little trail of droppings here, some nibbled wood there. He explained that at night they drop into our shed, then wander out through the door and skip over to our pond for a little drinky. Eating some snails on the way. "Good job," I said, but they still wouldn't let me keep the ratties.

So now I am waiting for our garden to turn into a rat mortuary. And hoping the cats don't get any of the poison, or the rats (although there is an antidote, you'll be pleased to hear). Not much fun at all.


  • At 11:47 PM, Blogger Chris said…

    I have rats in my garden, too. They're like fairies, not because they wear pink tutus or anything but because I know they are there but I never see them. The cat deals with some of them (when he can be bothered) just to earn his keep and proves this to me by leaving various bits of them on the doorstep.


Post a Comment

<< Home