Thursday, February 14, 2008

Mole in the hole

I am not sure I can live with the guilt of country life. Firstly, I have to vote Tory. Not only that - I have blood on my hands. I am talking dead mole. I know I could have got a sonic alarm but the moles would have made a mad dash for the field, waited for the ringing in their ears to stop and come straight back over the garden wall, pausing only for the advice "Avoid the laser beams or all hell breaks loose." I know I could have got a trap which shuts the mole in with a colour TV and his own toilet to keep him happy till the moleman came and dug it up and I could then have paid for a one way ticket to New Zealand so the mole could make a fresh start. Or I could let the moleman do his stuff and use a trap which breaks its neck. Instantaneously, he told me. The moleman held out the rigor mortised mole. It was smaller than the palm of his hand with soft grey fur, big pink paddle paws at the front and no eyes to speak of. He said: "Look at its ferocious teeth." The tiny jagged teeth were bared as he lifted its lip. He said he would take it home and use it to bait another trap he had set elsewhere with its scent. That way it would encourage the male mole living in the other garden to dash into the trap looking for a rival male. The children have a book about a young mole who rescues a baby bird, keeps it in a cage and then frees it. I am so not reading that book again.

11 comments:

occasional northerner said...

We've got a book about a mole who suffers from a dog dumping on his head and spends the day trying to work out who dunnit!

Sweet Irene said...

I can understand you not feeling comfortable about this and having very mixed feelings, so would I.

I don't know what the solution is, maybe trap him life and set him free in the countryside? The locals would probably think you are being a ninny about it and too softhearted.

The mole had an instantaneous death, if that is any consolation.

Still, it is a little creature going about its busyness, which just happens to interfere with the state of your garden.

I am too much of a bleeding heart to help you out with this dilemma. I suppose it is just one of those things you have to learn to live with.

All of us have something on our conscience.

CrazyCath said...

At least the mole catcher removes it for you. Where I came from, farmers regularly caught moles (I don't know how) and they were then hung on the barbed wire fences as a sort of trophy. I think actually it will have been to do with scent and stuff, but it is an image from my childhood that still does not make me wince no matter how long I have been away. It was just so normal to see this spectacle on the way to school.

Consequently, I have grown into some one who is totally squeamish and ninnyish about some things, but anything countrified or farm related - moles, rats, birds, foxes, weasels, etc. - I can take in my stride. I hate spiders though in a house.

Don't worry WITN. You only paid the man! ;-)

Miriam said...

reminds me of a friend who talked of a mouse "with really Long, thick black eyelashes" running across the floor. I'm definitely too scared of them to see their eyelashes!
If the mole stayed out of and away from your house, he'd still be alive, so hang the guilt. BTW sounds like the decision was to stay in Northumberland? mimi

Sarah said...

It seems to comr down to personal boundaries; (rats & moles, not Tories)A rat swimming in a burn, feeding it's young- nature. A mole happily burrowing for worms- that's your nature, for you. Rats under the floor? Mice weeing in the pantry? Moles creating in the garden?
War.
Perhaps we see the essence of party politics here; New Labour might find for the mole, and evict you; The Liberals, provide a social tunnelling scheme; Conservatism yells' 'Get off my land.' declaring extermination a national sport.
That's not right, not right, at all.
We all just make our way the best we can. If you find yourself with another mole, perhaps a more humane approach?

I Beatrice said...

This is ferocious stuff! What did they ever do to you, those moles, that's what I want to know?

And as for the horrors of voting Tory - well, the Northumbrians have a point. I would vote for Attila the Hun I think, just to get THIS LOT out!

Mopsa said...

Yup, the mole hills are starting to emerge. Let me at 'em! Dead, moles make great solid missiles for chucking at crows and magpies.

Iota said...

Perhaps you could get yourself to the nearest children's bookshop, and find a book about a rat who rescued a Tory politician, kept it in a cage until it was strong enough, and then let it out in time to campaign for the next election. That would be uplifting stuff.

The Grocer said...

Still don't think you have got fully to grips with the North yet. Once dead Mole should not be allowed to go to waste, alternatives would be to a) Roast Mole, although you need a few to feed a family or b) have it stuffed and added to the mantelpiece.

John said...

Sarah, new conservatism would seek to educate the moles to take them out of the underclass and make them useful (taxpaying) members of society.

Unless they were on the front lawn of course.

Altaglow said...

If anyone here could see what's going on in our garden there would be no tender thoughts re; gophers/moles. The little
bast%%ds have completely taken out a dozen rose bushes, have undermined our driveway and have left at least one fruit tree in peril of falling over. We have a good quarter of an acre that they could have to themselves--not planted yet--but that's not what the buggers want. Tomorrow spouse and I are dragging out the big guns--this is shortly to be no country for old moles!!