Sussed it, Tim, I think

Tim

Thanks for your advice. I have now managed to add the site meter java script bit to the page. What a clever Pup I am. A wet misearble wintry day. The poor old Magnolia stellata in the front garden is reduced to brown rags by the wind and cold of last week. I am denied access to the greenhouse in case I trample on the emerging seedlings. But - (devilishly exciting!) we have a r*t in the compost heap. Megan knows it - she is down there every time we are let out of the back door - we streak down the garden in a shower of gravel and yips as we barge each other out of the way to get there first (and Megan's meant to be an old girl! She can't 'alf move when there's a varmint to git).

It's one of those big plastic dalek type compost bins and and the varmint has chewed a hole in the front by the inspection slidey door. Dad has opened the top and found burrow up to the top so the little critter presumably sits up there, under the lid and gorges on our old compost peelings. Dad has tried the live trap a number of nights with different baits, but there's no ratter quite like Meggie, and I'm proud to be her apprentice. Meggie had 20-30 of the little b***ards while our humans had bantams, and she'll not have forgotten the fun and the technique.

Deefer (Trainee R*tter)