We are continuing to trap the rats that have infested our kitchen. Count since we began this round, two and a half weeks ago, stands at 33 -- all juveniles.
Mid afternoon today: a trap goes snap and the squealing starts. All 33 were instant kills, I'm glad to say, so I was disconcerted that even a rat should be caught and in pain. I hobbled out to the kitchen as fast as I could . . .
But it wasn't a rat this time. It was a little brown weasel, not much longer than a rat and a lot more slender. Fortunately, it was caught only by a hind foot, so we were able to release it outside. It ran off, seemingly not slowed down by its injured foot. I did feel bad about it, but I think it will likely survive.
Weasels and mink have got into the house before and they do a great job of cleaning out the rats. I was tempted to just let this one go inside the house, but feared it may not have learned its lesson about traps. I need to change my baits to something that will attract rats but be of no interest to weasels. This particular trap had bacon fat in the little cup.
The funny thing is, not two days ago I said to my partner, Brian, that I thought we had a weasel in the house. The running sounds at night were a different rhythm and I caught a whiff of musk. Today it was more than a whiff, but fortunately it is neither as strong nor as unpleasant as skunk, and it does not have much staying power.
