"Rats Rats/ They dig holes into the hen house/ And give the fingers to the cats".
That's my version of the Pied Piper of Hamelin. These aren't the talented tap dancing variety of rats I once lived with but the sneaky, coming out at night and crapping everywhere kind. And I hate them. I even looked at rat traps this week. Large versions of the mouse kind in plastic, wood and metal. But when I learned that you have to nail them down in case the rat takes off with one as a funky kind of necklace I bottled out. I don't mind dealing with corpses but the thought of jewellery wearing punk rats doing their Sid Vicious impressions out on the lawn is just too much.
I have four cats and a dog. They don't like rats either. They like watching them, they'll even sniff them once they're lying in state, but they won't do anything about helping them get to that nice old deceased stage. However I've worked out that if those nasty rodents get a glimpse of Kit "The Terminator" Cat they may just die laughing.
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