A couple of weeks ago I saw a fat rat run through the patio. We found droppings along a wall. The exterminator came and put down some sticky traps. A week later . . . a rustling sound under a tray. It sounded like feathers. A pause. Another rustle.
I am a coward, I admit. My husband deals with vermin. I orchestrate the traps or whatever. He came out, and I went in. He wouldn’t let me look, nor would I.
It was a bird, on the ground, caught in the sticky trap.
My husband snapped its neck, and I am crying as I write this. It’s evil to kill a bird. Not too evil to kill rats. I really don’t even like the idea of sticky traps for rats as it is an awful death.
Never again will a sticky trap be placed anywhere by anyone near me. Please think twice an three times before you put them out.
Ink, Yarn & Beer 