And I have to say, it is with heavy heart that I do it. I've read Amazing Maurice and His Educated Rodents. I know rats are intelligent and- if you can get past the numerous diseases they carry, to find out- probably jolly good company when they've had a few beers. And, truth be known, if he wasn't somehow getting into my loft space and widdling in it, I would probably let him be. But you have to draw the line somewhere, don't you? Cede him the attic, and next thing he'll be expecting a seat at the dinner table.
We still don't know how he's getting in- if we could stop him, we could avoid killing him/them. I've been a vegetarian since my early twenties (no, I'm not going to tell you how long ago that was). I have tried all my adult life not to be responsible for the death of an animal (except mosquitos. Sorry- but it's them or me). I get angry when the kids stomp on ants and spiders. If we have a victim- or many victims, it is going to weigh heavy with my conscience. My husband's not too keen at the prospect, either. He was upset that the cat got three juveniles. "But they were so cute," he complained.
Yes, I did consider live traps, but rats are classed as vermin and therefore are not supposed to be released into the wild. Rats also, I am told, can find their way back from up to 20 miles away. Sorry, Rat, but I am not biking 20 miles with an anxious rodent strapped to my panniers, just because you can't be bothered to stay in my neighbours garden.
I can hear something in the attic now. I'm feeling so guilty. Perhaps I should have put chocolate down for him- the rat equivalent of a final cigarette, maybe. I'm just waiting for the thud of the trap going off...
23 May 2016. Update regarding Rat- The Facebook conversation says it all.