Go, and Let Us Have Done With You!

Why won't they just go away?

I speak, of course, of the ubiquitous vole. Apparently they had a lot of hatchlings over the last few weeks, and now I'm running into the little buggers all over the bloody yard. Scurrying hither and yon, they duck under low-hanging plants and scuttle across my patio. They scoot under the downspout trays and they've worn a track in the grass along the raised bed out front. They are EVERYWHERE.

Of course, it doesn't help that I'm behind in my weeding in every area of the yard, thus affording them ample cover. I'm usually a staunch advocate of keeping cats indoors, but this is almost enough to make me wish for a few good barn cats - they'd make short work of the little critters. Come to think of it, so would some dogs. We had a dog when I was a teenager that was forever bringing dead moles up on the front porch. (My mother, like Queen Victoria, was not amused.) However, I lack any outdoor animals that could take them on. I guess that I'll just have to endure until I can finally get the beds cleaned up and then lay down a veritable snowfall of Shake Away granules. In the meantime, I can only echo the words of Oliver Cromwell: "Depart, I say. Let us have done with you. In the name of God, go!"