The Rodent Chronicles, Part 5: Trench Warfare

Back in the old days, warring armies would act, well, civilized and take a winter siesta from the daily ritual of beating the crap out of each other. I have it on good authority that George Washington and the Continental Army wintered in South Beach. There’s nothing like the smell of Hawaiian Tropic Golden Tanning Lotion and a few morning Mojitos to get that fighting spirit back in time for the spring guts and gore season.

Apparently I am not civilized.


Trench warfare

Trench warfare

In my view, the cold winter weather offered me a tremendous advantage over the rodent hordes in my garage. You see, when each days fighting ended, I was able to retire to a comfy red leather chair to watch McHale’s Navy reruns. My opponent, on the other hand, had to take shelter in a cold and nasty hole in the garage ceiling filled with fiberglass insulation. You know, the stuff that feels like a million barbed fish hooks in your skin. I did not have any sympathy for him. War is hell. Sucker.

So I used the winter armistice season to my advantage. I’m pretty sure rodents don’t follow the Geneva Convention, so I didn’t feel obligated either. You can bet if I ever catch that disgusting little puke I won’t feel the least bit guilty about waterboarding him, even if it does violate a new Presidential Executive Order.

Unfortunately, my strategy of fighting through the winter season didn’t pay off. Instead of catching him off guard and achieving a quick and decisive victory, my war turned into a living hell – day after day of grueling combat. Each new day was the day before. During Wheel of Fortune, I would get out of my red leather chair to set bait – which that little rat bastard ate by the way. Later I would make two or three trips down to the garage to try to catch him off guard and exposed. He seemed to know the routine and made it a point to retreat to his hole in the ceiling as I crept down the steps. Being about 220 pounds and full dude sized, I found the challenge of a stealth attack into the three inch ceiling hole daunting to say the least.

Some days I thought defeat and humiliation would be a welcome end to the monotonous cycle. Then I remembered that I am a human and can do cool things like eat steak. I was pretty sure my adversary did not have that luxury. Sucker.

Night vision scope for rats

Anti-Rodent technology in action

It was a stalemate. Something had to change in order to break the cycle.

Then it struck me.

Night vision.

Die you commie rat bastard.


  1. Frank says

    Have you tried Stakeout, setting or lying for a very long time in one spot in the Garage, then shooting the rat when he comes out, do put bait out.

    • says

      Oh yeah! Stalking is quite fun. Parmesan cheese makes a most tempting bait :-) And boring my sons night vision scope adds an extra element of stealth!

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