Showing posts with label rats; chicken coop; history. Show all posts
Showing posts with label rats; chicken coop; history. Show all posts

Monday, August 15, 2016

Rats #9: Good Riddance at the Eggplant

Jay, Matt and I set aside a summer Saturday afternoon to once and for all get rid of the remaining rat. I had purchased a pack of four smoke bombs and a large bucket of poison blocks that were developed to kill rats resistant to blood-thinning poisons mentioned in Rat #4: biology basics, what’s in rat poison and UW-Madison.

The first thing we did was take a close look at the situation. The rats had done a lot of excavation from under the coop storage area and around our garage. As they dug tunnels under the coop, they moved a large amount of sand, gravel and wood chips into a three-inch space between the coop and the side of our house. When peering into this small, dimly-lit space, we could see excavation piles and the entrance to at least one tunnel.
Excavation around loose soil around our garage.
The rat moved a lot of gravel from
under the coop to make tunnels.


Excavation and tunnel entrances inside the run.



















In the run (that’s the screened in porch area) we found two tunnels with some excavation as well. Looking inside the storage area we didn’t find any evidence of holes or other damage. (In the spring we did have a mouse infestation in the storage area, but they’re dumb, and I caught five in a 24-hour period with peanut butter-baited mouse traps.)

Next, we put our heads together to figure out how to catch and kill the rat. Matt set a live trap up at one entrance to the three-inch space between the coop and the house. I blocked the other side of the space. Then we covered one of the tunnel holes with a rock and lit a smoke bomb and put it into the tunnel.
I like the brand name...

The smoke bombs can do two things; chase the critter out (into our live trap) or kill it with noxious gas. While I don’t know if it's the same stuff, but when we lit the bomb, it smelled like the same smoke after lighting fireworks. In our case, we flushed the rat out, it suddenly appeared in the run, scampering about in circles until it darted into one of the holes in a cement block that was on its side. The block was pushed up against the foundation of the coop, so there was no exit, and I quickly put a flat shovel in front of the opening.

Got it! Now, what to do? Jay, Matt and I steeled ourselves to kill it. We each had a shovel in hand and prepared (mentally and got ourselves into position) to smash it. It would be a bit gruesome, but it would be done. I moved my shovel and, nothing. I looked in the space and the rat wasn’t there.

We moved the block and saw that there was a tiny hole in the the foundation that the block was next to. The rat had squeezed itself into the hole and was again under the coop. That was maddening.

We lit off two more smoke bombs but never saw it again. We don’t know if the subsequent smoke bombs killed the rat, but we also couldn't figure out how to get to it without moving the entire coop.
So we got out weapon #2, the bucket of poison cubes. We put them in the holes, between the house and the coop, and for extra measure, I put them in some somewhat sheltered areas around our garage.

Satisfied that we had made the environment inhospitable (smoke bombs, closed up tunnels, and lots of disturbance) we also committed to removing its food source. We added a hook to the roof of the run and each night when we lock the chickens in (something we do anyway) we also remove the food from it’s low hook and put it up so the rat can’t get to it. In the morning when we let the chickens out, we put the food down again. In this way, we hoped to make our coop a very unpleasant place to stay.

Food at chicken height during the day
The next day I peered between the coop and the house and one of the poison cubes Jay had thrown there was gone. Apparently we didn't kill it with the smoke bomb, and the rat gathered a free meal. Over the next few days I monitored the coop and surrounding area for holes or new tunnels. I also put a rat trap at the entrance of the space between the house and the coop in case it wanted to venture out. We haven’t seen any new evidence of excavation.

Food now hung from the ceiling at
night to remove the rat's food source.
So, in sum, we physically killed one rat, and saw another. After our smoke bomb adventure and adding new poison cubes, we haven’t seen new evidence of the final rat. I think we’re done with our problem, but we have several lessons learned.
  1.  Rats are smart. They won’t fall for the same trap more than once.
  2.  Rats can get through the smallest hole. EVERY hole needs to be sealed up.
  3. We must be vigilant and not nearly as nonchalant as we had been when we first noticed them.
  4.  It’s good to talk with neighbors – Jenny and I formed our own little rat support group to talk about our frustrations with getting rid of them.




Wednesday, July 13, 2016

Rats 3: Part of the English language

If you’re visiting for the first time, this is part 3 of a series. See links to prior posts in this series at the bottom of this post.

Rats are frequently blamed for damaging food supplies and other goods, or spreading disease. Their reputation has carried into common parlance: in the English language, "rat" is often an insult or is generally used to signify an unscrupulous character; it is also used to mean an individual who works as a police informant. It is a term (noun and verb) in criminal slang for an informant - "to rat on someone" is to betray them by informing the authorities of a crime or misdeed they committed. Describing a person as "rat-like" usually implies he or she is unattractive and suspicious.

They're typically associated with filth, bad smell, and have be blamed for transmitting diseases. This gave rise to a number of expressions, including “to smell a rat” and the associated meaning of rat (“a person regarded as despicable”).

Similar to the wonderful variety of appearances of chicken figures of speech in the English language, here is a collection of rat figures of speech from weblearneng.com

1. rat (noun)  =
(a)  a worthless, disloyal, dangerous man
(b) in labour unions a term used for non-union employers or breakers of union contracts
2. “Rats!” (interjection) = an expression used for some interjections which are considered vulgar, and also to mean ‘Nonsense!’
3. to rat (verb) = to break a promise; to be disloyal
4. to rat on someone = to betray; to cheat someone
5. to smell a rat = to guess that something wrong is happening or to suspect some hidden danger or disadvantage.

The rat series

Rats #9: Good riddance at The Eggplant

Rats!

Rats. They've practically evolved alongside humans, and certainly have occupied the same spaces throughout human history. The Black Plague is long gone, but when they take up residence in the chicken coop, they've got to go. This kicks off an 8-part series exploring rats, their place in human history and language, behavior, biology, the damage they do and finally our local rat problem and our efforts to get rid of them.

We built our chicken coop and run with keeping predators out as a priority. We started with a foundation of cement blocks sunk into the ground, and then built a solid wood structure starting with beefy 2x6 treated lumber. Upon that foundation we built the rest of the structure so that we could “sandwich” hardware cloth between the uprights and batons to keep anything from prying the wire back to enter the run.  We were generous with our screws and staples so it was all very secure. The doors are locked with raccoon-proof carabiners each night. Our coop was secure against hawks, ferrets, weasels, possums, coyotes, dogs, skunks, raccoons and anything else that wanted chicken for dinner.

So sometime in March when I discovered some holes in the chicken coop “run,” that’s the screened in porch that our chickens spend most of their time when not sleeping or laying eggs, my first thought was that the chickens were digging holes out of winter boredom.

A few weeks later I discovered some light excavation between the foundation of our house and the coop (there is a 2-3 inch space between them) and about that time our neighbor and chicken co-parent/owner Matt told us that he had seen two rats helping themselves to chicken feed one evening. After seeing new holes and excavations in our compost bin, I wasn’t particularly surprised, but I was unexpectedly overcome with a sudden urge to kill any and all rats within a 10-mile radius of our coop.

I baited some rat traps (I keep them on hand for occasional chipmunk raids on my tomato beds) and almost immediately caught one. However, no matter the bait I used or the location I put the traps, I couldn’t catch the second one that Matt was sure he had seen feeding in the run.

I either (or simultaneously) gave up, forgot about or denied that “it” was still there and the spring moved on into summer. And then I was reminded of them.

This is the first in a series of blog posts about rats. I’ve learned a lot about them, thought I’d share. As the posts are published I'll include links to them here.

The Rat Series
Rats #9: Good riddance at The Eggplant

To be continued….

Rats 2, Rats and human co-evolution


Brown rat, Rattus norvegicus, by H. Zell 
If you’re visiting for the first time, this is part two of a series. See links to prior posts in this series at the bottom of this post.

Before I continue with my rat tale, I thought it would be useful to explore and explain why I feel justified to exterminate every last rat using any means possible, period. Even though they're said to ve responsible for the death of 75,000,000 (yes, million) people, I wonder if this isn't the response or reaction that a perfectly rational person should have to a simple, four-legged creature that is stealing a bit of chicken food each day.

It didn’t take much work to find negative connotations of genus Rattus, the most important of which to humans are the black rat, Rattus rattus, and the brown rat, Rattus norvegicus. Here’s the first sentence in the “European cultures” section of the rat entry in Wikipedia.

Black rat, rattus rattus, by David Shankbone.
“European associations with the rat are generally negative. For instance, "Rats!" is used as a substitute for various vulgar interjections in the English language. These associations do not draw, per se, from any biological or behavioral trait of the rat, but possibly from the association of rats (and fleas) with the 14th-century medieval plague called the Black Death. Rats are seen as vicious, unclean, parasitic animals that steal food and spread disease.”

Here’s an alternate perspective from the New World Encyclopedia. “Due to an incredible adaptability to almost any environment and a general ability to live symbiotically with humans, rats are regarded to be the most successful mammalian species living on earth today, followed by the mouse.”

And this from Cracked.com. “To be fair, a part of this monstrous reputation is firmly rooted in reality. Besides costing us billions of dollars a year in property damage, rats are one of the most widespread ecological pests in the world, feasting on defenseless native wildlife wherever they've been introduced and even driving other species to the brink of extinction.”

On the other hand, while you certainly shouldn't pull one out of a storm drain and put it in your mouth, there isn't any scientific basis to assume that rats are exceptionally disease-prone animals. This stereotype primarily stems from the infamous Black Death, an outbreak of bubonic plague speculated to have killed over 75,000,000 people during the mid-1300s. But it was actually transmitted by the fleas of warm-blooded mammals in general. Rats appeared responsible for the plague only because they were so common.

Now obviously bubonic plague isn't a problem these days, and you'll be hard pressed to find a rat-spread disease that is. According to the Center for Disease Control, rats don't even spread rabies. That's right, despite their absolutely staggering numbers, rats are one of the animals you're least likely to get sick from.
However, when introduced into locations where rats previously did not exist they can cause a huge amount of environmental degradation. 

The black rat is considered to be one of the world's worst invasive species. Also known as the ship rat, it has been carried world-wide as a stowaway on human sea-going vessels for millennia and has usually accompanied men to any new area visited or settled by human beings by sea. The similar but more aggressive brown rat or wharf rat, has also been carried worldwide by ships in recent centuries. Following the black plague and virtual extermination of the black rat in Europe, the brown rat moved in, changed the locks and has been the dominant rattus since.


So, am I justified in my reptilian brain reflex to get rid of rats? The next post explores how the word “rat” has become a regular part of the English language.

The series so far


Rats #9: Good riddance at The Eggplant