Junket

Well, it took a few days and a lot of -- er -- trial and error, but we think we've finished our mission as far as those mole holes go. I haven't seen any mass exodus or anything, but the border collie advises it takes a few days. Seems to me somebody tosses their business through your front window you're up and out in a hurry, but what do I know?
In any event, we got an email from a distant relative inviting us up north for a few days to talk about other ways to handle the problem...




...this is Hal. And he has some definite ideas on a Plan B. If nothing else, we'll bone up on our howling. We'll be out of pocket for a while...

Mole in one

If we look a little stressed, we have good reason. Since the moles showed up -- yes, there's more than one -- we've been scrambling to research ways to see them on their way. The border collie has been surfing the IntraWeb -- you can tell he's surfing when he has that white stuff on his nose. Anyway, he's found some options but they've all got drawbacks...

You can buy smokebombs that you light and stuff down the holes. The border collie thinks the housmates wouldn't like bombs going off in the yard. I think it would look like a Rolling Stones concert. Jot it on the grocery list and we're on our way... But I was overrruled...

Another site recommends stuffing dryer sheets down the holes. Apparently, moles like their clothes wrinkled. The border collie says he thinks they don't like the smell. We think getting our paws on dryer sheets is too difficult. Tough enough around here making off with a cookie.
Some of the more radical sites suggest a touch of gasoline. Again, something about the smell. Seems like we may get rid of the moles and everything else on the property if things went wrong.

That leaves us with a fourth option that is more practical but very challenging. It has us up all hours practicing...



Turns out that another effective remedy for moles is something we have a lot of -- how do you put it? Oh yes, dog droppings. Depositing a few choice nuggets in one of their holes is an effective way to invite the moles to move on. No lugging dryer sheets, smokebombs or gas cans across the lawn.

But there's the challenge of accuracy. We have little experience in precision pooping. Close enough has been, well, good enough for us. That's why we're heading over to Como Golf Course this morning for an 18-hole practice round.

Fore!

Something wicked this way digs

So where have I been? No marriages in my world. It's been all business and, well, the business ain't been good. Turns out I've been spending too much time pursuing the natives and their long-eared kin. A whole new nemesis has worked its way into my back 40. The border collie pointed it out a couple weeks back. "See those bumps all over the sideyard?" he asked, flipping the pages of Granta and popping a Saltine into his mouth. "Moles. Better study up, bud. It's showtime."


Well, I ain't much for book learnin'. My first cram session about moles didn't work out too well. Spent all day worrying we all had skin cancer. The border collie sighed and rummaged around on the IntraWeb and put me straight.



Turns out these are ugly varmits who can turn the countryside into swiss cheese. Oh sure, cartoons try to make anything cuddly and harmless. But these things dig and dig and pretty soon you've got an 18-hole golf course right up your backside. And they kill shrubs. Not good for my job security with the newfangled plants the house mates had installed last year.


My mission is simple. Turn these things into slippers or I get sacked. The pressure is on...