The Best Medicine – Moles And Me

By Connie Warnock, NW Connection

It was bound to happen. It’s that time of year. Our lawns that Craig has worked so diligently on – sloping masterpieces of green sward – are, all of a sudden, pock marked with pyramids of finely dug dark brown earth.

Now, there are a couple of ways to look at this: Number one – “Wow, this is great dirt! Get the pots for the deck and fill them up!” Number two – “Connie, call the mole guy – NOW!” Well, I threw the mole guy’s card away four years ago – after the “incident.”

It was late fall. The leaves had fallen and the air was crisp. I was relaxing in the living room; dark was setting in; and so was I. Craig came in from outside.

“I think you need to come out here and see something,” he said, handing me a coat. I followed him up the driveway in the fading light.

“Look,” he said. And, there was a tiny mole moving slowly in blind circles. It was going from side to side across the driveway.

“Oh, great,” I said, looking at my watch.

“Pretty soon, it’s going to be dark,” Craig said.

“Well, I’ll do something,” I said.

My husband retreated to the indoors. I finally got hold of the little fella, and I have to say tiny moles are adorable! They aren’t all “bitey,” as in teeth; they are very soft, and quite darling. Anyway, I saw a large pile of leaves on the opposite side of the driveway in a park-like area with lots of trees. I took the sweet tiny mole and put it under a large pile of leaves thinking it would get the idea to bury itself. Back into the house, I settled in a chair as a full moon filled our window.

Half an hour later however, I began to wonder if the tiny creature was still all covered up. I sent Craig out to see. Back in he came. “I don’t know how you could think it would stay under those leaves,” he said, “it’s out in the driveway running in circles, again!”

“Oh, no!” I said, “I need the flashlight!”

“Here, and good luck,” Craig replied.

Getting the little guy to climb into my hand was easy. So, after some thought, I laid the light down and with one hand started digging a hole as deep as I could. Then I kind of pushed the little guy forward and sat on the curb while watching him dig. The farther he went, I gently pushed the earth in behind him. It was a big success! Oddly enough, the hole remained neatly closed over in the morning sun. I was thrilled!

That summer, the yard was pock marked and I had to call the exterminator. He was, to give credit where credit is due, very good. Buckets covered every trap. I asked him if he thought they were big ugly moles, and he looked a little askance as he said, “probably, they are full grown.”

“Well,” I joked, “If they are wearing little vests or anything, don’t set any more traps!” He laughed. “You know, like in ‘Wind in The Willows’ – ‘Moley and Ratty’,” I said.
“Oh! The book,” he laughed, “I read that to my kids!”

So, here we are, again; and I’ve voted for filling pots on the deck. I’ve suggested using garlic on the mole hills. I’m sure moles don’t like garlic.

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