X30NGO

We have a resident mole in our garden. The last week he has popped up in various places leaving average sized mole hills all over the grass!!!

How can i get rid of him?!?!

lightning101

Taken from an earlier thread:

After reading some of the comments from my last "Mole Update", I have decided to try a more covert style operation. I now have 14 holes.

Seeing EvilKoyotes note about the use of Strychnine, I decided that poisoned worm kebabs is the way forward. Unsure where to get Strychnine from, I went to my local chemist and asked for 'something to poison moles with'. The assistant, apart from looking at me very suspiciously, suggested I went to a garden center. I told her that I had already tried that route and that I had taken advice (from Scoobynet - but I didnt tell her that bit!!!) that poison was the best remedy for the situation. I asked her for her recomendation on what to use and she explained that a chemist was 'usually used to dispense products that save lives, not kill poor defenceless animals'. She clearly did not share my predicament and I probably made things worse when I said that these 'defenceless' little buggers had already cost me over £70 quid, had ruined my perfectly flat lawn and had now moved into the flower bed and laid siege to my Wife's favourite hosta's and begonia's. She wasn't impressed and said that she did not think she could help me as I needed a 'Strych 3' form from DEFRA in Bristol in order to buy the stuff. She then completely ignored me and went on to discuss some old ladies yeast problem with a district nurse who happened to be in the shop at the same time. I left.

Back to the garden center for some professional advise. My local garden center has an 'advise desk' where spotty little oiks lurk around at weekends pretending to know about green things (but who couldnt really tell the difference between a daisy and a stealth bomber). Sometimes, if your lucky, there is an old guy who works there and I have spoken to him before - he seems to know his stuff (his latin is particularly impressive and usually renders all normal plant names useless from twenty paces) and it was his wisdom I sought (a bit like Jason and the Argonauts seeking out the three blind old witches with only one eye between them - or was that Perseus? Not sure) Anyway, I finally catch up with this old guy who is drinking his tea perched on a large blue glazed pot near the Azalia's (currently on offer - 2 for the price of 1 at the moment if anyone's interested). Funny how old gardeners all wear the same clothes isnt it? Wellys, blue shirt with rolled up sleeves, braces and MOLESKIN TROUSERS! A good sign - if he can kill enough moles to make trousers then surely I will have enough to clothe him in a matching sports jacket and tie!! (assuming this poison idea works)

Conversation kinda goes like this...

"Hi. I wonder if you can help me?" I enquire... As usual for garden center staff, he looks me up and down with little interest and decides straight away that I'm an idiot but, as its his tea break, he'll humour me.

"Elp Ya?" he says (gardners all talk the same too dont they?)

I tell him about the Mole(s) and my failed attempts (which make him laugh and me feel like a prat) and then I tell him about my plans to slip poison into their worm pie without them noticing anything's amiss. ("Does this worm taste a little off to you dear?") He looks at me like Im a Osama Bin Poisonin but notices the desperation in my eyes and eventually decides to help.

"Best way to get rid o' the bu66ers is gig 'em oot" he says.

"Yeah I know - but I have a big area to cover and would probably need a JCB to dig it all up" I reply.

"If yer gonna poison 'em, need Striknin" he says - "but you gotta 'ave a loicence before you can buy it. Makes 'em have convulshuns see, curl up an doi they do" He says... "Arsenic works too mind - and not so harsh on cats and dogs that eat it by mistake" he says. "They simply doi quieter"... I couldnt help but snigger at this point...

"Got anything I can buy?" I ask...

"ooh no," he curses, "Ya cant sell that stuff 'ere," he says "there'd be dead gardnin foke all o'wer the county" he says. (Not such a bad Idea I thought present company included) "Did you know there's a song about Mole catching? he says...

At this point, with visions of Dick Van Dyke bouncing around a garden center, I decide its time to leave the silly old sod to his cup of tea and seek alternative advice. He was clearly a lunatic.

Later that afternoon, after two more failed attempts at getting common sense out of Garden center staff elsewhere, I decide to try the Internet. A quick search on Yahoo and Google reveals that Im not alone in trying to get rid of the pesky little sods. Pages and pages of clever ideas are available but nothing guarantees a result nor compares to last weekends antics in terms of sheer imagination. General concensus seems to be (in no particular order of certainty) 1. Dig em out 2.Trap them 3.Poison them 4.Smoke em out. Having tried 2 and 4, I have to give number 3. a go leaving number 1 as a last resort as I simply dont have the energy left!

I rummage through the garage to find whatever terrible concoctions I can find - White Spirit, Drain Cleaner and 3 in 1 multipurpose oil are about as evil as I can find. I try the cupboard under the sink... Thick Domestos, window cleaner and Mr. Sheen. Desperate for results, I decide to use all of them.

The drain cleaner is quite impressive stuff. With my pink marigolds hoisted up my arm as far as they will go I pour out some of the stuff into a large old jug (99% sulphuric Acid it says on the bottle). To this I slowly add the white spirit and 3 in 1 - mixing very gently as I go. It starts hissing and spitting... a good sign. Never seen a witches brew that didnt hiss and spit. Next goes the Mr Sheen, Window Cleaner and Domestos. The bleach comes out quicker than expected and quickly drowns the mixture. It smells foul. Moles might love it! This'll teach the little sods...

Next - the worms. I need to catch some big juicy worms to inject this smouldering concoction in to (No - it really is smouldering too! Looks like a nightcap for Frankenstein). Now never having been a fisherman, Im not accustomed to catching worms but I have heard that if you sprinkle water on the ground and pretend to sound like rain you can attract them to the surface. Armed with a full Watering can I wet an area of soil holding the can up high on a pair of steps so the water falls on the ground harder and thus sounds like real rain. (Whilst doing this I noticed the neighbours pointing at me and smiling from an upstairs window while I was up the ladder. Pah, they can laugh - wait til they find the dead goldfish in their recently fumigated pond...)

Nothing happens. No Worms. More water is needed I think so I get the hosepipe (which is now 8 feet shorter after last weekends offensive) which I tie to the steps pointing upwards and turn on the tap. Have a cup of tea and a ciggy whilst waiting for the ground to saturate. When I go back to the wet area, lo and behold - worms - dozens of the bloody things after turning just a spadefull or two of soil. We're in business. I collect about 30 of the largest worms and put them in a sealed jar for safekeeping along with some soil for them to .... well, what ever it is that they do with it (eat,crap,eat,crap,eat,crap - no wonder there are so many worms!). I take them back to garage and, one at a time, inject them with about 20cc's of the concoction using an old syringe (I kicked the habit now officer!). Its funny watching the worms try to swallow 20cc's of anything as they blow up like a balloon or a condom at a stag do. With many pumped up to almost bursting point now, I swiftly take the worm coloured ping pong ***** back out in to the garden and start dropping them into the mole hills and their tunnels below. My Wife - bemused as always - watches from the kitchen window. She doesnt understand...
Anyway, confident of results, I retire for the evening.

Sunday morning bright and early and off we go to take a look to see whats happened.
.
.
.
.
Nothing.


Out of desperation I decide to dig up one of the more recent hills. Inside the hill, I find some of the very dead earth worms still pumped up like small balloons. It is clear that the tunnels have been used by the moles a lot as they are well trodden. I decide to follow one of the tunnels with my spade, digging it up as I go until eventually I reach another Mole hill and... low and behold - what looks like a den or burrow underneath it and off to one side. Inside this den are several more earthworm carcasses and the strangest looking - and so far the only - (dead) mole I have ever seen. To start with I thought it was a baby badger - Its head is kind of fair or blond, not black as you would expect. Then it dawns on me - the mole must have tried a worm balloon and when it had bitten into it, the pressure must have exploded the secret potion in the moles face leaving Sulphuric acid and bleach all over its head (hence the whiteish fur) So Whady'a know - I got one after all!!

I couldnt find any more. Maybe, just maybe this was the only one. I am keeping an eye open for new holes having now flattened the previous 14.

Cat brought home a sparrow with a white head yesterday.

Mak.

Chrisgr31

Leap up and don on the molehills every day. He'll eventually move next door for a more peaceful life!

Matteeboy

Mole trap or shotgun.

You can also get ultrasonic emitters that pi55 them off.

DCI Gene Hunt

Everytime he pops up a new mole hill sit over it and lay a turd in it..... he'll soon get fed up and **** off next door





PS - Best done at night though

davegtt

watch caddyshack for ideas

The Hoff

iTrader: (5)

The original post that the top story was taken from was the funniest post ever to be put on Scoobynet.

davegtt

WRONG!!!! The funniest post ever to be put on Scoobynet contained a bunch of mangy, **** covered reekers (cows)

Kieran_Burns

iTrader: (1)

Jasper Carrot is your man for this:

Anyway, I returned from the Girt Clog Club to find that I'd got a mole making one hell of a mess of my garden.

I'd never come across them before. Born in Acocks Green you don't get a lot of moles around. If they found a mole in Acocks Green they'd eat it. It took me just a few days to realize this mole was driving me bonkers. I'd spend hours and hours mowing the lawn and getting the lines all straight. Then next morning you wake up and it's like looking at a sea of zits. There just doesn't seem to be any mole catchers left. So it's a DIY job with moles (Destroy It Yourself).

So I bought a mole trap: a big metal thing you have to bait with worms. A pretty revolting job, so I used spaghetti and hoped they wouldn't know the difference. But I put plenty of bait in the trap, set it and the mole came along, ate all the spaghetti and pushed the trap out of the way. It took me two months before I realized that there was no way he was going to go into it. He was just getting bigger on all the spaghetti he was eating.

Then I bought a firework, called Molesmoke, which is like a Roman candle. You light it, shove it down the hole and then cover the earth over. The instructions say: 'The smoke, which is heavier than air, lies in the run, is poisonous and kills the mole!'
No, it doesn't.
They love them. You can hear them giggling. And after a while you begin to get the mole twitch. You got a mole?

'Yeah,' you say, with a tick in your face. People come up with loopy ideas of how to get rid of them. 'There's only one way to get rid of a mole - you've got to shove garlic and mothballs down the holes. They don't like the smell.'
'Really?'
'Never fails.'
So I was there for two weeks shoveling the stuff down. They ate the lot! Just got enormous moles and bigger hills.

Then this other bloke says: 'There's only one way to get rid of a mole.'
'What?'
'You've got to buy those plastic windmills you get from Woolworths.
'They are like long sticks with a plastic bit at the end which whirls around. You get one of them,' he says, and you stick it down the middle of the mole run. When the wind sends the whirly bit round it vibrates the stick and the noise scares the mole away.' I fell for it. I've got two hundred of them in my lawn. The first big gust of wind blew my fence down, yet the moles, far from being frightened, ate all the ends of the sticks.

About five weeks ago I was in the local boozer having a drink when this guy comes in: "Ere,' he says. 'I ‘ear you got a mole.'
'Yes.'
'There's only one way to get rid of a mole.'
'Really...'
'Blow its bloody head off!'
"What with?'
'A twelve-bore.'
'What do you do? Stick it down the hole and…
'No, no,' he says, shaking his head. 'But it costs you a night's sleep, mind.'
'Anything. I'll sacrifice anything.'
'What you do is stay up all night, When it's all quiet Moley starts digging, pushing up the earth from your lawn. When he does that he's only half an inch from the top. Then you start blasting away.'
'Does it work?'
'Never fails!'
'But where do I get a twelve-bore from?'
'You can borrow mine for a fiver.'
Sure enough, he delivers the gun and a box of cartridges - enough to do a bank raid. I'm there on a Sunday night with this great big gun. I have strapped a torch to the barrel so I can see what I am doing.
And I sit on a swivel chair.
All the neighbors are watching from their bedroom windows.
'What's he doing?'
'I don't know. Imitating a lighthouse?'

So it's about half past three on a Sunday morning and so quiet you could hear a leaf drop. Suddenly I hear a scratching and five yards ahead there's a mole coming out of the lawn. I turn on the searchlight. Now, I know this sounds stupid, but I'd never thought to practice with the twelve-bore. I had never fired a gun that size in my life. So ... BOOM! And I flew ten yards off my stool. The only thing I hit were all the apples in my tree. I was incensed and started shooting everywhere. B 0 0 M! B 0 0 M! B 0 0 M!! Shooting like a maniac. The garden was like the Somme.

Then I noticed this blue flashing light. There were a couple of coppers standing there:
'What are you doing Carrott?'
'Mole-catching.'

They wander over. Luckily, one of them had suffered the ravages of a mole so was sympathetic. He muttered: 'Carry on. But be quiet.' They're still there, of course, digging up the garden.

'What's on tonight?' 'Beetroot.' 'Oh, not so good as mothballs and garlic.' 'No. And we could do with some more fireworks to see what we're doing.' 'I wonder if we'll get any more wind-sticks again.’ Hope so. They're delicious.' 'Bloody noisy up there last night, wasn't it?