We started with a rat blitzkrieg and are now fighting a rare skirmish with the furry demons. We have used three methods- a .22 rifle with a scope (when they were brazen in running around the chicken coop), a poison called One Bite (put out in areas unaccessible to other critters), and a simple bucket half filled with water (when we determined their exit path from our raised off the ground chicken coop). All worked well, and we did not see a single rat for over a year, until the other day...
We were lounging near the rabbitry when we noticed our youngest dog Skeeter fascinated with the underside of our Jeep. He kept looking up at the underside of the car and whining. Hubby's first thought was a snake, so I walked over and banged on the side panel. Nothing, and Skeeter was still there, alert and whining. Hubby went and grabbed a sling blade and handed it to me, asking me to be ready to kill the snake if it slithered out when he popped the hood. Side note: hubby HATES snakes, and we have rattlers around here.
So, there I stood, ready to save hubby. He popped the hood, and a brown blur came barreling out. I had just enough time to recognize it was a rat and ready my weapon to dispatch it when Skeeter's mad fury made it change direction, and it proceeded to run up my leg! I admit I screamed like a girl, because, well, I am one, and I think I set a world record for a standing long jump by a 50ish lady, and off went Mr. Rat, to be quickly dispatched by the dogs. Once I calmed down, I asked my hubby what he was thinking handing me a sharp device like a sling blade, because I am almost sure that if that plague carrying vermin had been on my leg for two more seconds, I would now be known, affectionately of course, as Stumpy.