Archive reports

Should you be able to speak to Richard Gere, or the late Michael Hutchins they would probably both promote the philosophy that ‘Variety is the Spice of Life’. Many voyeurs to this website might well be complacent to our ‘Hunt on Sunday’ attitude to Ratting. So to fizz things up a bit it was decided to take a last minute Friday Night fixture on the outskirts of York.

Many professionals might consider winding down their week in a loud and ‘Totty’ filled wine bar….. (not the Ratcatchers). We arrived at the Haxby farm with terriers and alkathyne pipes to upset the local rodent population; who were probably waxing their hair and applying their lipsticks to venture out to the same aforementioned hostelries. Needless to say, the shock to the system they received was a little more than finding out their favourite shirt, and planned outfit, had a stain down it.

With such an impromptu fixture numbers were low, the ratcatchers only able to arrive with four fit for Friday terriers and seven stickmen. That said after a hard week, all concerned were ready to let off steam. The first drive had been described to us as a certain ‘megamauling’. In a cattle shed arena, bound with railway sleeper walls and saw dust bedding the farmer told of plagues that crossed the shed to gorge themselves in the feed troughs. Prepared for battle the stickmen filled in obvious exit holes and opened gates to the stock free shed to enable the farmer to drive his folk lift in, to do our riving for us. Clearly rodents had been there but being a Friday they must have thought it best to skip an evening meal and grab a kebab on the way back home from town. As a result the guaranteed bag was left empty.

‘Billy’, who had seemed very uninterested in the food trough was directing his attentions to the sleeper walls. Looking for an escape from the dark, soiled bedding he leapt at the light above the wall tops, as a Jersey Care Home Resident might escaping an over-familiar cellar. He yearned to be the other side of the wall, which happened to double up as a storage area for some local builders. Being a Friday the Tradesmen had rather predictably stopped work just after lunch and so the untidy palettes of stone flags and bricks were a settled base for the local rodents to meet before catching the bus to town.

We have many reasons to be thankful for being English. One lesser reason, unknown to many, is that the typical English Brickie is an idle, carefree, messy begger who would rather throw the contents of his van onto a heap on the floor (so as to get to the pub sooner) than stack it neatly to discourage rats…… and long may this continue.

From leaving the cattle yard we all took “ Billy’s” advice and ventured into the builders domain. On first impressions the upturned wheel barrows, lengths of drain pipe and heaps of bricks seemed equally unimpressive. However we were all soon proved wrong. The atmosphere was further improved by the failing light and echoing acoustics. Stickmen waded up to their groins in ½ tonne sand bags and piles of roofing latts. Centre to the activity was a collection of bricks and metal re-inforcement bars that lay on a half buried palette. “Coco” with her lighter frame managed to squeeze into uncomfortably tight spaces and started proceedings off with an excellent dispatch. Although blooded she performed admirably and was fairly given the award of ‘Terrier of the Match’.

With one end of the building materials blocked off, rat after rat was driven to a literal ‘Dead End’. “Frankie” who arrived just after kick off, made up for her lack of punctuality with some excellent and brave tackles. A crescendo of noise and activity from both man and dog came as a wooden crate of paving stones was decanted onto a separate heap. Rats bolted for their lives, few kept them. The only stickwoman present, although somewhat reluctant to join in the close quarter rat work was invaluable as an outfield, spotting cunning rodents who tried to slip under our defensive net.

‘Elvis’ true to form was an effective killer although a little side tracked from proceedings by the ‘just out of season’ “Coco” who continued to taunt him like an over confident pole dancer offering some private attention.

As the drives became well picked over and the light made hunting difficult it was decided to bring our Friday Frolic to an end. Terriers were gathered up and a team photo taken. Afterwards the host farmer offered us a more suitable refreshment to the Sunday cup of tea we have become accustomed to drinking. It was rather optimistically suggested that we drove into the centre of town and ‘Wine-barred it’ with terriers at foot. However inadequate personal insurance was given as an excuse to pass on this, along with the fact that frustrated ‘Elvis’ would seek out and spend his love on what ever might stand still long enough. It was stated by one of the stickmen that although doormen take strength to a new level, it would be a brave man that prised “Elvis” off a silky smooth, San Tropez shin.

The Malton & Norton Rugby Ratcatchers would like to take this opportunity to thank the host farmer for the invitation and refreshments after. We hope that our visit did ruin the local rodents Friday evening and that after venturing into the builders yard our work goes unrecognised. However it was felt a little tenuous to expect the builder to believe that the blood that could be traced in places was in fact from a roosting pigeon with an unexpectedly heavy nose bleed; Especially when his wheel barrow had 13 very sleepy rats in it.

Gentlemen keep flying the flag, but remember your yard when next out quoting for work and you dramatically suck air through your teeth, warning that it could be a big job!!!