/johnny
Thanks for bringing up memories of me and my closest friend sitting in his feed shed with our .22 rifles, a coffee can half full of “rat killing loads”from the local feed store, two croaker sacks so each of us could collect the 10 cent per head bounty his dead later regretted setting so high...flipping for the rights to the best corner and who had to pull the light chain from the other corner. We were ten years old..with guns...no parents...and a pouch of red man.
Just today I told a neighbor, who couldn’t understand why the wolf rats she was trying to poison..would not touch the poison like the mice did. After chuckling to myself for a moment and saying brb...I did my level best to keep a straight face seeing her reaction when I returned with the ole .22 LR 5 shot wheel with a 6” barrel..a q beam and a gallon ziplock of feed corn.
I did not make it through the part about how setting up a rat killing in the living room is perfectly safe for a dead eye shot like me...those powerful wolf rat rounds won’t go bouncing around the house unless you miss....I busted gut hard man...so hard I let out a few laugh poots...she did not find either funny.
I then pulled out a small bag with the crumbled up pieces of a half slice of bread covered in peanut butter...yet each piece had a very small squirt of poison that looked like peanut butter. It is made for wolf rats and can only be sold to licensed exterminators...like a good buddy of mine.
I then explained to her that wolf rats are smarter than mice and regular rats. They will not eat just anything and require a type and amount of poison different than other rodents. One of the small squirts I put on each crumble will easily kill any dog and most children that ain’t 80 pounds or so. Two squirts would kill me dead. It had to be carefully placed so dogs or kids would not get to it.
She was obviously holding back her concern about the poison considering it better than me firing off “wolf rat rounds”(LOLOL) in her living room. I then told her that there is another option..one I used myself when I first moved in my house that had a good sized family living in it because no humans had for a couple of years before me. It was the cleanest, safest, and most efficient way to deal with them...(I paused for dramatics here before)And the thing is..it don’t kill them all but causes them to just go away.
She tried to be patient as I flipped through my droid looking for the picture of the brown water snake it took me a week to find along the creek behind the house..and the one of me holding it near their hole in my basement dirt...which it slid right down into never to be seen again...along with any sign of wolf rat in my house.
Boy...was she pissed at me after the mere pic of me and the snake in my basement freaked her slam out for a minute. To this day I don’t think she really believed me...she hasn’t spoken to me much since.(Another win..damn I’m good)
It took about twenty minutes to locate their runway from the dirt basement hole entry to the spot they used to go up through the floor right under the kitchen cabinet next to the fridge. Dunno how she disposed of the dead ones or if she found them all. I forgot to tell her the poison causes them to seek out water before they die...but it doesn’t always work that way. Oh well.
Nothing brings me more joy in life than teaching those who think they are SO far above us country folks in intelligence a lesson in truth...especially when they are so uppidty bitch about it. Between her and having just got home from a week in Manhattan on business...and the Powell rod I lucked up upon two days ago that is perfect for the shimano chronarch given to me by a nephew who first went fishing with me at 5...I gave him his first bbgun...He was the son I didn’t have and I was the dad he didn’t have. His 4 year old caught his first bass two weeks ago...
It’s been a rough coupla years bro...I really needed the good the coupla last few weeks has brought...but if it keeps up this silly ass grin is gonna lock itself on my face so tight I’ll still be sporting it at the folks who come to pay me respects when I pass.