Really Not Sure What To Say About This One

[Guest Ditch_Shitter]

Hadn't been in bed four hours. Dogs went off and I knew there was somebody out there. Naturally, I just assumed it was Pat and so tried to ignore it. I mean, he has his own business outside my compound and doesn't need me to govern his actions there. Alough, then again, I suppose he could be requiring my attention for some reason? Better take a look .....

 

And that's how I came to find myself, half awake, quarter beered and realising straight away, just by his speech pattern, the guy was a f*cking nutter!

 

Not Pat at all, obviously. This was some guy I've never seen in my life before. He'd somehow found me and was asking, in his perculiarly hesitant and vague manner, if I were " The guy who does the pests and things? ".

 

Well, I'm not averse to a doorstepped job so I asked him what particular pests he was troubled by. That brought forth yet another rambling stream of mumbling, the gist of which was something about; " In the garden ..... Those things with the bushy tails. "

 

Funny, isn't it? I'd bet my nights dinner on it that probably 99% + of ye reading this thought, " Squirrels.", didn't ye? Aye, well it just shows how native I've become because, without thought or hesitation I simply interjected; " That'll be Pine Martens. They're protected." Thereby considering the case closed and allowing my somewhat groggy mind to get back to fully concentrating on my own desperate desire for peace and quiet and a nice cup of tea and fag. But then he was burbling on about " Rats and crows " and I couldn't help but think, as I wearily rubbed at my face; " F*cking hell; This guy's got the full damn menagerie! ".

 

So it was that I soon found myself inside his over heated, rubbish strewn old motor. Trying to make sense of this constant stream of flat toned grief that he's inflicting, all the while, on my ears.

 

From what I could make of it, his story was something along the lines of this: He had " The bushy tailed yokes " (Pine Martens, to you or me) in his garden and getting under his motor. It appears his newly ammended wish - in view of their status in law - was that I bring cages and remove them to some indeterminate other place, there to release them again. Oh aye? Right .....

 

And then there were the rats. Bit more interesting to me, that one. Only now he's involving the damn " Crows " in the same breath. Now, out here, " Crow " is a catch all word for Hooded Crow, Rook and Jackdaw. As we'd already covered the " Bushy tailed yokes " and I'd yet had niether a cup of tea nor that, by now, quite desperaely needed fag, I was in no mood to try dissecting state of mind or syntax just to find out what f*cking birds were bothering him and / or his rats!

 

Never mind. Clutching desperately for some shred on comfort in this unasked for situation, I took it in the fact that he'd mentioned he lived in ..... well, he'd named the local town. This brought me the pleasurable vision of strolling up to his place as and when I was in town on any other business. Perhaps even getting the odd free lift in. Only that little day dream was rudely shattered as we passed straight through the town and started heading off deep into a part of Eire I've simply never seen before. I think it was about then that the old 'Fight or Flight' instinct started nipping at the back of my mind! I was in a strange motor, being driven out into strange lands by a decidedly strange erstwhile Client!

 

Thankfully, he never quite found his right moment to attack and so I decanted myself in his yard and immediately began to take careful stock of my surroundings. Now what the f*cking hell was he on about?! Oh yes: These rats.

 

I found myself staring balefully down at three holes around what appeared to be an old tree root. I can't be much more specific about that as my attention was focussed entirely on the holes themselves. The Smallest one being quite amply large enough that I could have rammed my fist down it - that could have been an unconcious shifting of my growing desire to ram my first somewhere? The main one was more akin to a f*cking Rabbit Burrow! And this c*** was telling me about Rats?!

 

That's when he started nudging this bit of plastic sewage piping around with his foot. One of those bits with a curve to it. Barely a foot long. From what I could make out, Einstien here had been putting poisoned bait in it and was now peturbed that the " Crows " had eaten it all! Back in england, we have whole bloody organisations set up Just to try and reach out to people like this and convince them they're not really following the exact principles of Best Practice. And I still hadn't had a cup of tea.

 

So, I took a quick circuit of his ground. Found absolutely no visible sign of rodent infestation. Listened as he now explained how " Mice " were coming out of yet another fist sized hole at the base of his property wall and getting " Up amongst " a rotted wooden lintel. I suggested a blob of cement there. Much more of this and I might have shit in the f*cking hole and pronounced that a fool proof stoppage to his 'Mouse' problems and held my bloody hand out! Is insanity infectious? Something enviromental, perhaps?

 

Anyway, I don't even honestly remember at which point I seem to have assuaged his concerns. But we were back in his four wheeled oven and heading back towards town. Me now gasping for cool air as much as a fag. I was myself, by now, rambling too. Fielding his many and various disjointed questions as we went along. He seemed to have now alighted on " Weasles " as a point of obsession. So I explained 'weasles' to him pitching my responses at, as best I could imagine, might have been his level. Needless to say, the term " Mustalid " never once entered the conversation then.

 

By the time we were back on my own ground and I was trying to distinguish exactly what the hell he wanted to know about the shooting of the fox on the roof over there, I was actively skinning that to be died for fag, right there in the motor.

 

Glancing at the clock, I see now that I was actually in his company for one whole hour. That being almost three hours ago. And do you know; In that three hours I now realise the Dogs have whined and I've lept out of this chair to fling an anxiety ridden glance towards that, thankfully empty, turning place three bloody times! I'm a nervous wreck!

 

The bugger found me. Now I oh so f*cking hope he'll simply forget me. Rats I can deal with; Delusory psychosise are Not us!

[jacob 28]

sounds like a case of the DTs hell be back

[woodga 170]

just what i was thinking :friends:

[ianrob 2]

A great post Ditch, almost Kafkaesque. I could see you in his garden.

[Guest timeout]

That made me laugh.Brilliant writing BTW ditch

[john b 38]

I like to think that somewhere on another site, "Irish Landowners Association" perhaps there is an equal and opposite post .....

 

Last night I drove all the way to the other side of town to see some fella who'd been recommend to me as as a bit of a pest control expert. Odd fella, a bit of a recluse who lives alone with a pack of dogs but supposed to know his stuff.

 

Anyway I pulled up at his place and to be honest I took one look and almost drove straight off again. But too late; his dogs had kicked off and he spotted me and came out. We had a quick chat and I tried to sound him out about how knowledge of the law and different animals but either he didn't understand me or was being cagey. I think he was a bit pissed.

 

Anyway as I'd disturbed his evening I felt duty bound to let him give my place the once over and give me a quote. He doesn't have his own transport so I gave him a lift back but he seemed twitchy all the way. Just as I got back through to my side of town I thought to myself - Oh my God, he's going to know where I live.

 

Once we got there he had a look round. I showed him all the standard DIY stuff I'd put down for the rats but he didn't seem to get it at all. My confidence was plummeting now - no car, didn't seem to know about poisons and the twitch was getting worse. I let him poke about a bit, look in a few burrows then diverted him with a few questions about mice.

 

I gave him a lift back again and by this time he was twitchier than ever. Seemed to be panting and kept going on about weasels. Dropped him off, jumped in the car and beat a quick retreat. I just hope he can't find his way back

[Guest timeout]

:clapper:

[Ossie 11]

LMFAO! both posts, Ditch & John B, brilliant!

 

Leitrim seems to be a bit of a nutjob hotspot!

[RatSnatcher 0]

Funniest thing I,ve read for a long time you too DS /// JB you should of offered tea Ditchy and that special pine martin biscuit on the mantle piece

 

 

Who was it that told that cracking story of the old lady who was a bit nutty , they ended up driving her about all morning because she locked herself out of the house.......bloody classic

 

anyone remember that story,,,,needs to be told again for sure I'm sure they were a pestie from memory ....

[ianrob 2]

I like to think that somewhere on another site, "Irish Landowners Association" perhaps there is an equal and opposite post .....

 

Last night I drove all the way to the other side of town to see some fella who'd been recommend to me as as a bit of a pest control expert. Odd fella, a bit of a recluse who lives alone with a pack of dogs but supposed to know his stuff.

 

Anyway I pulled up at his place and to be honest I took one look and almost drove straight off again. But too late; his dogs had kicked off and he spotted me and came out. We had a quick chat and I tried to sound him out about how knowledge of the law and different animals but either he didn't understand me or was being cagey. I think he was a bit pissed.

 

Anyway as I'd disturbed his evening I felt duty bound to let him give my place the once over and give me a quote. He doesn't have his own transport so I gave him a lift back but he seemed twitchy all the way. Just as I got back through to my side of town I thought to myself - Oh my God, he's going to know where I live.

 

Once we got there he had a look round. I showed him all the standard DIY stuff I'd put down for the rats but he didn't seem to get it at all. My confidence was plummeting now - no car, didn't seem to know about poisons and the twitch was getting worse. I let him poke about a bit, look in a few burrows then diverted him with a few questions about mice.

 

I gave him a lift back again and by this time he was twitchier than ever. Seemed to be panting and kept going on about weasels. Dropped him off, jumped in the car and beat a quick retreat. I just hope he can't find his way back

Excellent John, best two posts I've read in ages.

[gaz 284]

Ditch as usual,very funny and amusing yarn there but i have to say John b...your star fella,just about pissed myself laughing at your side of the story....class

[Guest Ditch_Shitter]

Who was it that told that cracking story of the old lady who was a bit nutty , they ended up driving her about all morning because she locked herself out of the house.......bloody classic!

 

 

If my memory serves me ..... wasn't that our own MoleTrapper? And agreed; A truly classic and well presented story of " It Shouldn't Happen to a Pester "

[OldTrapCollector 377]

If my memory serves me ..... wasn't that our own MoleTrapper? And agreed; A truly classic and well presented story of " It Shouldn't Happen to a Pester "

 

I thought it was mole catcher, but then I have been wrong about a million times already today . . .

 

OTC

[RatSnatcher 0]

I found it lads it was indeed Mole Catcher ..........

 

 

A true classic

 

 

Taken from this thread ........http://www.thehuntinglife.com/forums/index.php?showtopic=25096&st=0&p=246288entry246288

 

There i was sitting in a hide at 4.30ish this morning waiting or the sun to rise on yet another strange but interesting job. The removal of noisey ferrels and doves from a customers garden being the order of the day.

Alls gone well and said birds are removed with no fuss at all leaving me at one with the world. On the way to my next customer i thought i would be smart and kill to birds with one stone (no pun intended) and call in to look at an on going rabbit job. Get to said address and duely greeted by an unknow woman.

''hello says'' I '' is Mr smith at home?""

" no hes not" replies woman

"" mrs smith?""

" no, her niether"

All of a sudden the front door slams shut leaving myself and this unknown woman on the door step. Yes you guessed it the door locks itself and she hasnt any keys. So, being the galent gent i am i climb over the rear wall to check the rear doors, all locked, "" BUGGER " says I

explaining the situation to the lady she says cheerfully

"" Mrs smiths sister has a spare set she lives in the next village"

thinking this ladys the house cleaner i say

'" ok, jump in, i will give you a lift and fetch them" puts me a little behind but what the heck.

on the drive to mrs smiths sisters i try and get a chat going as the dead birds in the back of the van are now getting a little on the high side smell wise with the heat. Any way we get to the next village and i ask the lady whats mrs smiths sisters address

"" i dont know" she replys followed by "" didnt know mrs smith had a sister""

"but you told me she has and you knew where she lives and there was a spare set of keys there"

''Did I ?, never knew she had a sister"

Its at this point my day turned a little sureal, there i was sitting in a village i dont know with an old lady i know even less about , looking for a mrs smiths sister who doesnt even exisist as far as i know. It was about now i started to realise my problem. The lady sitting in my car is my customers senile sister in law ive heared him mention so i again look through my list of contact numbers but only have his home number so back i drive again to the house to re-think my plan. on the way she asks " dont get me home late will you as im off to the chelsea flower festival this afternoon, are you coming?" i was contemlpating driving to a quiet woodland i know on the way, knocking the old girl over the head with the ferreting spade, few mins digging, bobs your uncle, problem solved :whistle: I have a further customer in the same village as Mr smith so i ask her " do you know mr jones who has a little dog that mr& mrs smith go for walks with?'' please say yes "" dont think so" shit! plane B it is then. Get her back home and who should be there? Mrs smith After a bit of explain on both mine and mrs smiths part alls sorted out and dandy. only wasted about 1.1/2 hours on a goose chase.

 

Get this, as she got out the car she turns to mrs smith "" ive had a lovely drive in the countryside with this nice young man, been lovely it has"" she leans over grabs my face and gives me a bigg sloppy kiss on the check as she says good bye and wanders off in doors

its only at this point i notice shes only wearing one of those old fashioned dressing gowns with her slippers on the wronge feet

 

WHAT A DAY IN THE LIFE OF A PESTER

[Guest timeout]

That was funny