Poisoned Twister

I have never had a real problem with rats.

From time to time, their tell tale borrows can be seen sliding their way underneath some of the coops, but with some careful administration of poisoned pellets down their runs, the threat of any long term problem is usually done and dusted with remarkable speed.

I don't like rats around.

When he was a mere kitten Albert took on a rat on the field, and very nearly lost the fight until George interceded and broke the little bastard's neck with one powerful snap.

Yes....rats can be dangerous.

Yesterday I noticed a couple of rat "runs" under the turkey house and after the hens had been safely locked away I placed a load of the cerise poisoned pellets on a small tray and slid them under the house where they could be munched upon in private.

This morning I had forgot all about the poison and had completed most of the morning jobs when I just so happened to look over at the turkey house.

I KNOW it's a soddin Hamster!

Scattered all around the the side of the coop, and thankfully out of the way of the ewes were the pellets. The rats (devious little buggers that they are) had munched the poison over night and then they had pulled the tray out into the open where they had scattered the pellets in the grass with gay abandon.

The hens were all out and bright blue pellets to a hen with a brain the size of an average pea means only one thing

"DINNER"

With the ever curious warrens galloping forward  in the pouring rain, there was only one thing I could do to stop a mass suicide from taking place and so I sat down on the poison, effectively covering it from prying beaks

what followed next was a bit like some sort of odd game of poultry twister

with the ever knowing hens trying to get themselves a gob-full of goodies as I tried manfully to cover any stray pellet with some part of my body.
I was down and dirty in the muddy grass for an estimated 20 minutes!

Anyway, I think I succeeded , but remained, soaked  on the ground until all of the girls had became bored with the game and had wandered off. I only left the field after every one of the miniature pellets had been removed , it took an age

As I walked back to the cottage, looking, I may add ,like the "wreck of the Hesperus"

I spied neighbour Mike who just gave me one of those 

"I won't ask" type of looks.

I threw him a look which stated "don't!"

The next time I see a rat, I'll strangle the bastard with my bare hands