Editorial

I’ve seen in movie reviews that, once again, another “Poltergeist” movie has come to the big screen, with this one being in 3D, which should make some folks have second thoughts about reaching toward their TV. The original movie was produced back in 1982, along with “ET,” and I guess what goes around comes around.

When I read the review, it reminded me of those famous words the child said as she looked into the TV and slowly mumbled, “They’re here ...” It reminded me of what I just saw a few moments earlier in my front yard as my dog Ranger disappeared into a hole he was digging. A few years back, I had major problems with moles in my yard. It seemed they’d decided they’d caused me enough anguish and migrated to fields that surround my home. However, like the little kid who said those famous words in that awful movie, she could easily look at my yard and say, “They’re back, dude.”

The last time I wrote about this problem, I received all kinds of suggestions for how to rid my acreage of these creatures. I had people send me sacks of mole beans that resembled a blood-sucking insect found on dogs. I planted the beans (finding out later that they might be poisonous), hoping they’d at least spare parts of my yard from invasion. The moles didn’t bother the mole bean plants, but instead tunneled under the rest of the acreage. It seemed the beans gave them some type of high, like a drug, and they made tie-dye patterns in the yard. I ended up with hippie moles instead of no moles

at all.

I’m talking about having really big moles taking up residence in my yard. They had tunnels the size of city water lines, and they all seemed to meet to form a mound the size of a small storm cellar. Each morning I’d look out to see a new development that had sprung up over night, made from soil that resembled a structure that could be used to hide a North Korean missile site.

Since earthworms are a mole’s primary diet, I even tried bait that looks like a gummy worm and costs close to $40, but all it does is give the moles a special treat. I’ve also read that they might even occasionally catch small mice at the entrance to their burrows. I’m talking about some really mean moles around here.

I’ve even learned that because their saliva contains a toxin that can paralyze earthworms, moles are able to store their still living prey for a later snack. Wikipedia says they construct special underground “larders” for just this purpose, and researchers have discovered such larders with over a thousand earthworms in them. Maybe that should be the place you look next time you need to dig for fishing bait. One thousand earthworms could make for a long day of fishing.

I’ve always known moles were brutal, but did you know that before they eat their meal of earthworms, they pull them between their paws to squeeze the collected earth and dirt out of the worm’s gut, so says Wikipedia? Now that is not only pretty mean, it’s also smart. If I ate earthworms, I’d want them cleaned and gutted, too.

Another kind soul suggested placing small windmills and whirly-gigs in the ground so the noise would scare them away. I have almost two acres of yard, which would require hundreds of these things to make enough noise to scare the herd that lives under my sod. I guess I could get an energy credit on my income tax for a wind farm. I also could add some flamingos, which would not only get rid of the moles, but my neighbors as well.

I was even told to place chewing gum in their tunnels, but I don’t know what flavor they like. While taking down a fence the other day, I found a rusted mole trap that had been used in the Mole Wars. It was spring-loaded and contained sharp spears that would stab the mole when it hit the trigger. It didn’t work. The moles dug around the trap and threw the trigger from the other side. Plus, it had rained so much that spring that the trap had rusted.

With the new Mole War in progress, it at least gives Ranger something to do, but I’m getting tired of planting trees in the holes he leaves behind, and I really don’t need a forest in the front yard.

Pettus L. Read writes for the Tennessee Farm Bureau Federation. He may be contacted by e-mail at pettusr60@gmail.com.   v