Archive reports

Barry George would argue that the period of time that had elapsed since our last ratting event was blink-like to the time that he spent watching his back in the showers, for a mis-understanding with a rather high profile television presenter. That said the local rat population must have been a little apprehensive to hear that a ‘keen as mustard’ ratpack were having a long awaited run out.

After the Ryedale wedding of the Century, it was decided that what better nuptial gift could be presented to one of our founder members than the Sport of Princes. An invitation to re-visit a certain Barton le Willows farm was welcomed and a convoy of the usual suspects set off from the Spotted Cow and drew into a yard charged with anticipation. A turgid team soon went flaccid after a quick reconnaissance of the former glorious pig rearing outbuildings. Resembling a scene from a zombie film, stiff corpses lay all over the yard floor and surrounding outside walls. This might well have brought back a few memories for the afore-mentioned Mr. George had he have behaved as the Metropolitan Police said he had but to us eager warriors it was the wind out of our sails. A spell of recent poisoning had clearly done the farmers trick. The only life that could readily be found in the proximity was an outdoor pen of laying hens that was discovered by rookie terrier “Daisy”. Having the similar intelligence of her owner she slipped under the wire and found great fun chasing the hens, though thankfully was caught and controlled before she received a harsh word from the owners shot gun.

A little despondent, some frantic phoning ensued and an alternative venue was organised just a few hundred yards from our starting point. This SSSI (Site of Starvation, Sodomy and Inbreeding ) had proven to be an interesting fixture formally and this time was to be no exception. Learning from our mistakes we tackled the “Outbuildings” first. Clearing rodents from their homes like the Americans might napalm the Vietcom from their tunnels. Clearance was followed by hole filling to break links with the neighbouring hedge line. Much of the stock, and for that matter residents, that had been so un-nerved on our previous visit were no longer there. It was suggested that their absence was due to the Pickering Steam Fair that had taken place the week before and more directly the heavily laden waste bins that were still waiting to be emptied. (Rich pickings for any hunter/gatherer not used to the taste of hamburgers).

An excited troop moved from room to room. The light was dim, the ground uneven and the masses of machinery likely stolen. “Sydney” and “Elvis” picked up a couple of disorientated rodents that darted from behind some agitated chest freezers; used primarily for storing animal feeds and the occasional DSS Inspector. A particularly confined “Tack Room” saw some frantic action as a small chest of drawers containing “Tack” (used in the sensory meaning of the word) was opened drawer by drawer. A rat threw itself at the surrounding stickmen, ironically to be chested down by a female of the party. Such was her control, the rodent bounced tidily in a one:two combination and into the mouth of an observant “Frankie”.

Buildings cleared, the group of terriers and stickmen left the rat urine soaked air for the torrential rain outside. An opportunity was taken to reset an occupied rat-trap. One of the braver members took the trap into the middle of the establishments grazing field now pleasantly greened over with ragwort, Dockens and Fat hen. Using the dexterity one might expect from a neuro-surgeon he released the cage trap door to the short lived relief of the angry and rather vocal rodent prisoner.

Walking over an ever increasing muck midden the battle field was moved to a heap of rotten timber and roofing sheets that had been dumped along the side of one of the buildings. Steadily like a giant game of ‘Jack straws’ the heap was reduced and the fleeing rodents either dispatched by terriers or stamped on by stickmen. “Cathra” seemed quite happy to stand in the outfield and clean up any rats that ran through the net of stamping feet. “Billy” however was taking advantage of his last few ‘entire’ days by getting in the thick of the heap with some close quarter rat bashing.

The team proceeded to double back on itself and work a length of hedge that ran along the stabling. A steady flow of rats both young and old continued to flee the smoked natural boundary with few escaping to see another day. “Izzy” used her slight frame to her advantage by sniping rats through the gaps in hedge roots and “Toffee” was forgiven her irritating yap with the service she provided on the battlefield. Reflex and tolerance to Hawthorn hedge scratches were the virtues that helped this drive. Few stickmen could cope with the speed and uncomfortable environment they were expected to battle in however “Coco” and “Daisy” happily revelled in it. As the building line was pasted the hedge could be attacked more effectively from both sides. The site was cleared of nettles and a set of scaffold pipes and block stacked palettes proved a worthwhile spot to work. The other new team mate and rookie ratter “Monty” showed great potential with its first proper battle and rodent kill. A portable holiday home under the shadow of a rusty pylon seemed an apt position to bring an end to the drive. Terriers were washed down in the tourists paddling pool and a team photo taken.