Death to Muskrats!!!

I don't like furry woodland creatures.  Ironic really, when I pretty much live in the middle of a bush.  I don't like porcupines.  I don't like skunks.  I don't like moles, gophers or badgers.  And I HATE muskrats.  YUCK!

The last 2 days we've been cleaning out the barn.  Yesterday my father-in-law said he saw a muskrat and tried to drive over him with the tractor.  Sadly, it didn't work (much to my chagrin).  Shouldn't these little buggers be hibernating???????

My hatred for muskrats probably stems from a time when I was young (yeah, yeah...blaming it on my 'childhood'--that is sooooooo cliche).  Our dog had caught a muskrat and was hurling it high into the air, over and over.  Meanwhile the muskrat was sending out this awful high pitched scream.  I get shivers up my spine just thinking of it.  I remember that icky, shiny black tail flying high in the air and THUD it would hit the ground again.  Yuck, yuck, yuck, yuck, yuck!

This morning I was sweeping the barn.  I moved a big board away from the wall and there was the muskrat--shiny black tail and all.  I shoved the board back and high tailed it OUT of there.  I went looking for a pitch fork.  Then I realized the brand new shovel would probably be a little less messy.  A couple whacks is generally a cleaner way to dispose of vermin than a multiple stabbing.

Next I flagged down my father-in-law who was driving by again on the tractor.  He's a brave man.  I'm a damsel in distress.  Besides, he'll probably get a nice chuckle out of my reaction.  I'll make his day and he'll save mine.

My father-in-law (the hero) happily came to my rescue.  I, once again, pulled the board away (Ok, I just got shivers again just writing that!) and he whacked the bugger a few times with the shovel.  Job done!  He went straight back to work.  I of course, had to analyze the situation...and observe my enemy up close.  I even had to take several pictures of him.

Soon my husband came to haul him away.  That icky muskrat is now buried deep in a manure pile where the high ammonia and nitrogen levels will eat his body away in a matter of days.  It was a triple effort--I found him, my father-in-law killed him, and my husband buried him.  And as a result, my little world is a little happier again.