By WR Jones
No, this woman is not a bitch, far as I know. If you’re interested in that you’d have to ask her husband. I don’t even know her. She was sitting in the bus station when I was trying to convince those Greyhound people to give me a free ride to Las Vegas to play the nickel slots. I patiently explained over and over that the bus was so damn uncomfortable they should pay me to ride; I was, in effect, offering them a deal.
The other day my wife and I were standing in our garage when she claimed she saw a rat. I asked if it was a mouse or a rat. She said it was big. I went to the local rat amorory (grocery store) to stock up on poison and traps. I got two types of traps, the old fashion spring kind and a newer quick release version.
I figured, if I caught a rat, the quick release would prove beneficial. I could wait until Mango woke me up at 2AM to carry him outside to pee, then reach over the fence and “quick release” the rat corpse into the neighbor’s pool. From the sound of that motor, his filter should skim it right off.
I had my wife set the old spring version. Jesus, those things are scary. They will do a job on you finger, ask my wife. Once she had it set I told her I thought it would have been better to put the bait on BEFORE setting the trap. Still, I told her, if you are fast enough you should be able to get the peanut butter on and your hand out of there ahead of the spring – she wasn’t. Do you have any idea how hard it is to set a broken finger when you’ve had no formal training? The wikipedia directions weren’t all that clear. Those earmuffs I use for shooting really came in handy; she’s a screamer.
For the next few days I put out a block of poison every night and every morning the block would be gone. Not nibbled on, gone. This was a tough group of rats. I didn’t want to be in the garage anymore. I had my wife pull out my car each morning. I would wait for her out front. When she asked why I didn’t get the car myself, I told her I was waiting to see if she flushed the rat/s. Then I would shoot them from my tree stand.
I was up in the front yard tree in my new insulated mossy oak camo bibs. They really work. I was sweating my ass off. I don’t think they were meant for July use. On the glass-half-full side, I made my weight in case I felt like wrestling. I had my rifle and night vision goggles as well. Bring it on you rat bitch.
My concern about wearing a mossy oak pattern in a sycamore tree proved valid, the newspaper delivery man spotted me and called the police. Well, I’m here to tell you that was embarassing. I had to climb down from the tree and explain it wasn’t a real rifle, just a broom with a front sight I mounted for shooting dust bunnies from under my bed. Also, my night vision goggles were home made from an old sports drink bottle (I’m into this green movement – recycle). You really couldn’t see shit through them.
The rats are gone now. My wife and brother-in-law cleaned the garage this weekend. I would have helped, but cleaning the garage is edging very close to being work.
SEMI INTERESTING NOTES:
1. On the glue trap it said for humane release apply vegetable oil and use a pencil. Are you shitting me? I want the “RACK” trap so I can crank the wheel and ask where their babies are sleeping.
2. My daughter had a college roommate whos father was so concerned about a mouse’s welfare, he freed the mouse from some duct tape and let the mouse go even after it bit him.