As I sit here in my forced ban on all things political for the moment I thought I’d crank out another post. Actually I just finished another project which will soon be making its way to the blog (yeah) and it occurred to me that I had a quick one in the hopper that needed to be finished up. Next week is going to be a whirlwind and don’t need to have the quota hanging over me to add any additional stress. Ironically, nothing relieves stress like successfully dealing with a destructive pest.
Readers of this off ramp on the Information Super Highway should be very familiar with my absolute distaste for MOLES (shudder even typing it). They are right up there with clowns on my top ten antagonist list but unlike clowns these fur demons regularly manage to make their way onto my property. To normal creatures the homestead is a sanctuary of sorts. Rarely does anything meet their fate by my hands when they mind their own business and refrain from too much visible damage. This includes the deer that enjoy grazing through my landscape, raccoons that grow out of their cute stage and start taking liberties with the bird feeders, spiders that somehow find their way into the house and the mice that refuse to believe our propane tank is not their pleasure palace. All of these incidents pass without harm. That is all fine and dandy until I see that trail of dirt streaking across my lawn – blood boils, words are cursed and then I am pressed into action which means war (link here). With all the Project Auuuuunnnoooold work this year I have not been as diligent as usual. A few tails were seen at the edge of the yard but gave it the benefit that it mistakenly left the safety of the woods but would soon correct the error of its ways. That was until a couple of weeks ago when a line showed up in MY FRONT YARD. This is completely unacceptable. If you recall from a very sad post sometime back (link here), I had lost a good friend. I had not pulled out the new ones yet so opted to go with the old one. It had been giving me some concern due to how tight the springs seemed to be lately. All but the main line was stomped down and the trap set. Soon there were would be snapping in the air. Yet when I got home the next day, the trap was still set and all the side mounds were back up DAMMIT! This must be an uber smart one. Time to bring out Annihilation or Nihil for short. Based on the difficulties setting it, Trigger (as in Hair Trigger) might have been a better name. I’d set it, take a step and it would spring.. set, step, spring, set step spring – eesh. Eventually it was worked enough to hold but still cautiously made my way out of the kill zone.
A quick check a few hours later brought a smile to my face…
Not even an uber-smart mole can defeat me. Nihil comes through on its very first outing. Problem solved! Let’s all give a warm welcome to Nihil for he shall have a long and prosperous life (whatever you do, don’t mention the fate of Termi). For those that like to keep track, the 2013 tally is now Brian 1 Hellspawn ZERO. How about another joyful shot….
all it had to do was stay in the woods and it would still be grubbing it to the day it died of natural causes.. or the coyotes found it.. or it dared to even look at my neighbors manicured lawn. …. but NOOOOOO it decided to play with fire.
Hit the jump to see an old friend!
Hey, while prepping the pictures above I came across shots taken during the summer months of an old friend. Remember that post where I inadvertently risked being only able to count to 9 (link here). Been too long to remember if rain had brought it out of the ditches again, but the size, shape and totally stubborn attitude was a dead ringer.
It had survived another year – with special thanks to my charitable nature and dislike of turtle soup. On closer inspection it became apparent it had gone through some tough times. Hard to tell in these shots, but the left eye looked to be non-functioning – cloudy white and not moving.
Notice that I learned my lesson from the last time and did not bother placing my hand anywhere near that deadly mouth. Sorry readers, no size reference here, but it was pretty much the same size as the year before. In defiance to our presence it just kept crawling along keeping its eye on me as it headed back toward the mulch – the scene of that other late night battle. We were actually on our way out and therefore did not have time to redirect it back to the ditch. Figured I’d deal with it when I came back, but upon return it was nowhere to be found. Likely recalled our battle of wits and instead of pushing its luck like the uber smart mole opted to detour back into the woods. Wonder if the row of last year’s moles on pikes had any influence on that decision…
That’s all for now boys and girls, there’s work to be done!