I can never make my mind up about rats -
they have such a bad press, there must be something in it
but when I see one playing in the grass
or climbing the brambles to eat the blackberries,
swimming in the stream or wading in the shallows,
they're just part of the miracle of life on Earth
like you and me. Yet, like children born in slums,
they carry the stigma of reputed filth.
But these rats don't live in sewers.
I know where they sleep and breed - in a burrow
under the concrete base of my compost bins.
I suppose I should inform the local council
of their whereabouts but the rodent operative
would only poison them which I consider an ignoble death.
Instead I try to keep their numbers down
by shooting them with an air rifle or, to be more precise,
shooting AT them since I rarely manage to hit one
and even less often actually kill one. Still, I enjoy
the challenge of the sport as one of the shooting set.
Perhaps grouse eventually ?
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