While on a job in the East Bay I remember moving a very colorful, (and wealthy) Irishman who had the darnest dog. It was one of the two kinds of small dogs I'd actually like to own. One of course is the Jack Russel terrier and the other is the brown, short-haired, dacks.. docs... dauchs... err the weiner dog.

This weiner dog was named Dakota because, as the owner stated, "I was driving my RV, ( his was a huge luxery model vehicle affectionately referred to as a "land yacht" in these parts) through the barrens of South Dakota 100 miles from the nearest civilization. When I saw this weiner dog standing by the side of the road. And, as I figured he'd be a coyote turd by morning I stopped to see if he needed a lift somewhere. Good thing he wanted a ride as being near 70 years old I didn't think I'd be up to chasing a wee little doggie all over the Good Lord's creation. Yep, just opened the door and it popped right on in and sat down the the passengers seat. It had a nice collar, was clean, without so much as tick on him so I figured it was lost sometime early that morning while the owners were making a rest stop"

At about 10 am when the job was rolling into full swing this dog sat down right in the pathway as I was carrying a rather heavy 4 foot section of marble column. As the dog wouldn't move I put the piece down to see what was up. Then I noticed what was in the doggies mouth.

It was a rat's head. It was a big rat's head. Ratus norvegicus or I'm a guppy. Fresh too, as the neck stump was still bleeding. Well as I am no fan at all of wharf rats I said "good doggie" and all of a sudden like pushing a button the dog stood up on his hind legs, tossed the rat head up in the air about 3 ft or so and then jumped up and caught it. He then proceeded to munch it on down. Sounded sort a like it was eating a snail.

Now wait, the story gets better. Cut to about an hour later and as I was walking back into the house for another load I hear the foreman, normally a mature, sedate, family man (like I used to be) named Dan Hernandez all of a suddenly yell, "will somebody PLEASE take that rat head away from that dog!" And no less than two of my co-workers poked their heads out of differents rooms and said almost in what kids call a "jinx"; "That can't be the same rat head! I saw him eat it! and in the shocked silence that followed I had an inspiration. I raised a finger for silence, knelt down, and in my best stage whisper said "Good doggie" and was immediately rewarded with the flip, jump, and snatch routine.

Both my younger co-workers thought this was the funniest thing they'd seen since our dispatcher, a man not-so-affectionately known as the "Boston Crab" due to accent and attitude was accidently "pantsed" by a falling sofa.

(We had the sofa on end and he had his back to it. As it fell, I yelled "look out!" And as he was jumping foreward one of the sofas leg's caught in his back pocket and pulled his drawers down to his knees. Unfortunately for everyone it was a hot at the time and the dispatcher had decided to "go commando" that day. Right in front of our customer. Who would have thought a 70 year old billionaress could still blush? )

For the the whole rest of the day I could hear my two younger co-workers, giggling like school girls, saying "good doggie" followed by flip, snap, crunch, crunch, crunch. Punctuated with poor Dan's vain pleas to "Knock it off guys or I'm gonna gag!" At about 2 pm I told the guys to make themselves useful and keep a count. By 6 pm this little fellow had repeated this trick EIGHTEEN times. (and yes, Dan did gag.)

This impressed me two ways.

One: The size of this little doggies compression ratio.

Two: The size of the local rodent population.

The end

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"The beauty of that discussion of averages is that you don't have to be an expert in Apollo or in photography in order to see where this time study "analysis" breaks down. You just have to be, well...not an idiot." -JayUtah

So where in the heck was it getting all the rats?

It's suddenly very fall-like up by us, and the annual rodent search for warm housing is under way. Our totally amazing hunter-killer cat is having a hayday. She usually averages a rodent a day in the off season. Based on evidence (some of it very gory) and the kills eyewitnessed, I'd say she is triple her average over the last couple weeks.

Gooooood kitty.

I still need to trap a few that successfully run the gauntlet of the open yard.

Can you visualize it. The moon is nearly full, a ground fog is rolling up off the stream, and a heavy dew has set. All is quiet save for the occassional vehicle on the distant county highway. They gather at the edge of the cut grass, at it's closest a tantalizing but treacherous 100' from the house. Tantalizing for the warmth that oozes from the cracks in the home's 100 year old foundation, treacherous for the beast that prowls this no mouse's land of tightly mowed open lawn. Nowhere to hide, nowhere to run for a stretch that will take a seeming eternity to cross. This trip is not for the faint of heart.

They establish a plan, maybe a diversion, or a sacrifice of some so others may get thru. The network reports in that The Cat is nowhere to be seen, but keep an eye out for The Pesky Beagle. She's a poor second threat, but alarms The Cat that there is action to be had. Where one alights, the other is certain to follow. Trepidation runs high, but the quickly falling temperatures demand that planning come to an end and execution begin. A few last nervous glances, and the journey slowly begins as the first squad leaves the cover of the deep grass forest. It's very quiet, almost too quiet. Sliding along, nearly invisible, silent and stealthy they edge forward.


Little do they know that their arch enemy, The Cat, has been planning execution of it's own kind.

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Don of Borg - Cool, Calm, Collective.

"Within the next generation I believe that the world's leaders will discover that infant conditioning and narco-hypnosis are more efficient, as instruments of government, than clubs and prisons, and that the lust for power can be just as completely satisfied by suggesting people into loving their servitude as by flogging them and kicking them into obedience." -- Aldous Huxley

Well, near as I can figure the lot in back of the property was an ivy covered hillside. With an easement between the houses that was also ivy covered. I've heard that rats love the cover ivy provides. He had no rat damage in his house. I was looking.

As a side comment this guy had a beautiful collection of ceramic art from all over Europe and Asia. You know those blue stone lions every art deco shop and mall store sells? He had about six genuine ones he picked up in China in the late 40's. Two were so big they required special handling techniques.

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"The beauty of that discussion of averages is that you don't have to be an expert in Apollo or in photography in order to see where this time study "analysis" breaks down. You just have to be, well...not an idiot." -JayUtah

Our last cat got eaten by either the huge owl or a coyote a coupla months ago,which suprised me as he'd lived here almost 9 years,most cats are lucky if they average 9 months.He was a heckuva mouser,kept the house clean...tho I wish he'da learned to eat 'em,instead of me steppin' on little mouse carcasses.

A few years ago we had a flower bed below the deck & one day the Mrs. calls me & says "Look at this!" She turned the hose on & a dozen or so mice ran out of their holes in the garden.I ran in & grabbed my 22,loaded it with shotshells,had her stand on the deck & pour water down & when they ran out of their holes I'd shoot 'em.
There were so many that I called my neighbor to bring his 22 over & we spent a few afternoons just shootin' mice

all perfectly safe & legal,22 shotshells are only lethal on small critters out to about 12 feet & we were shootin' straight down into soft soil & we live in a rural area

__________________
"An armed man is a citizen
An unarmed man is a subject"

Robert A. Heinlein

Be careful of rabies...

__________________
I am Mugs, of the Alien clan of Usa, Nordamerica, a Terran, of Sol.

Mine: "Perception isn't reality. It's merely an abstraction thereof, and quite often not a very good one at that."

Heinlein's: "Staying young requires the unceasing cultivation of the ability to unlearn old falsehoods." "Freedom begins when you tell Ms. Grundy to go fly a kite."